


City of Connections

by TwitchWalkerTexasRanger



Series: The Verdantian Chronicles [1]
Category: The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: How Do I Tag, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, POV Original Female Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-11-09 12:58:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11105037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwitchWalkerTexasRanger/pseuds/TwitchWalkerTexasRanger
Summary: She's the mundane armed with a rusty tree limb cutter and a deep-seeded survivalist mentality. She came crashing into Brooklyn, asking everyone why, until suddenly the question became, "What if?"What if you knew the future? What if you had the power to change the course of a story? What would you do? These are the questions one passionate reader is going to answer, whether you're ready for it or not.





	1. A Greater Demon in the Garage

**Author's Note:**

> Once upon a time, back in the year 2010 when "rawr means i love u in dinosaur" was a meme and I thought self-inserts were cool, I wrote a story about a girl who could travel through portals and explore her favorite literary worlds. Since then, it's gained a fanbase of 50k+ readers and has given me the courage to publish an original novel. It's called the Verdantian Chronicles.
> 
> And since I'm still obsessed, I thought I'd expand this series to AO3. It updates once a week. I hope you enjoy it!

**1\. A Greater Demon in the Garage**

I woke up.

I blinked past the sleepiness in my eyes with a distinct dryness in my throat. I flopped over on my stomach and brushed my fingers against my phone on the floor. I pressed the home button to have my screensaver illuminate my room in pale silvery colors. It cast stark, jagged shadows along the floor from the mountains of clutter littered around my bed. My eyes watered at the brightness and I blearily read the time and date. February third, two fifty-eight in the morning.

I swallowed, but the burning in my throat persisted. I wanted to go back to sleep, it was Sunday (well, technically Monday now) and time waits for no high school sophomore. But I was dying of thirst. I needed water.

As soon as I flicked off my comforter, I grimaced at the cold already seeping into my bones. I reached out to grab the closest (warmest-looking) thing: a red flannel lying haphazardly on my purple beanbag. I shrugged it on, but it hardly did anything to ward off the early morning chill. I thought about using my comforter as a giant cloak, then remembered the stairs and thought better of it.

I turned on my phone’s flashlight and stepped out of my room.

The house was cold and dark and quiet, mainly due to the sun not even being up yet and all of my family members being fast asleep. The plush carpet acted as soft padding on my bare feet, faded paisley wallpaper around me tried to be cheery, but with my phone's harsh light, it looked more like the beginnings of a horror movie. Or maybe like I was stuck in a time capsule from the early seventies, but I assume all grandparents’ houses are like that.

My phone cast an eerie glow all the way down the stairs and on the parquet landing below. I began my descent, despite how creepy it all looked. When I made it to the landing, I made sure to balance my weight so I wouldn’t make the floorboards squeak –

_Whoosh…_

My back went ramrod straight at the foreign noise.

It sounded like a gust of wind, but at a lower register, coming from the living room to my right. Anxiety and eagerness wormed its way into my chest. I held my breath and glanced into the room, which held nothing more than worn couches and a hulking ancient television.

Other than that, of course, it was empty.

Obviously. What was I expecting?

I expelled the breath I’d been holding and glowered at the room.

Maybe my grandma finally set the heater correctly and it was just new air blowing through the house. But there was a hope (a small one) that maybe there was more to this world I lived in than I’d ever known. A hope that there may have actually _been_ something there to create that noise and I would know at last there was at least something, just _one thing_ , a little more magical – more fantastical – about the world than I’d ever been led to believe.

I had an overactive imagination. It was fed by books, TV shows, and everything else relating to the supernatural, sci-fi, and fantasy. But I couldn’t help it! The stories were pure adventure and learning and fighting and everything I secretly wanted out of life. To travel to exotic lands or planets and fight monsters and bad guys, to have powers and become an awesome battle-hardened warrior.

Just a chance to be something other than what I was now: a sixteen-year-old girl in high school with no remarkable qualities whose parents were currently jobless and had to move across the country to live with her senile grandma.

I definitely had an overactive imagination, but thanks to my life and its recent events, I also became a hardcore skeptic. A realist. I knew nothing from the fictional worlds I saw and read were real or ever would be real, but a small part of me kind of hoped that they were. A small part of me I didn’t _dare_ tell anyone else.

I slipped on a pair of rather worn but incredibly trustworthy white Vans and made my way through the living room. I ignored the kitchen, remembering there weren’t any cold bottles of water waiting for me in that fridge and turned to the garage, where a second fridge was installed. I walked out and didn’t flip on the lights because I’d grown used to my phone’s flashlight, but I stepped lightly as to not disturb any of the _gigantic_ spiders nestled at all corners of the room. It was a lot colder too, but I was sure it had to do with the lack of insulation and it being mid-winter at three o’clock in the morning.

I found a large twenty-four pack of plastic bottled waters nestled right next to the garden tools hanging on the wall. I set my phone down on top of the packaging, the flashlight facing upward toward the ceiling to dimly illuminate the whole room. I dug my fingers into the stubborn plastic and forced the material to give way. I reached in, picked up a water chilled by the cold winter air and uncapped it.

I rose to my feet, my eyes drawn to the myriad of garden tools displayed on the wall in front of me. That was when the room oddly began to turn colder, but I credited it to drinking the water. Then I heard a slight rustling sound coming from the back corner of the garage, like crumpling paper. Again, I ignored it, inspecting a tree limb cutter in the horrible lighting.

Then a shadow began to amass on the wall.

It grew taller and broader against the garden tools. First, I saw its giant head, then jagged misshapen… _horns_ … sprouted out and downward.

What the –?

My hands started to shake. A mouthful of water dribbled down my chin and splattered my T-shirt.

That was when the ragged breathing started. I was overcome by the smell of decay and death (there was no other way to describe it, _swear_ ) and my knees began to shake. The water bottle slipped out of my hands and spilled all over the concrete floor.

I grabbed the handle of the rusted tree limb cutter I’d been staring at and spun around – an action that would seal my fate forever.

Three feet away, between the cover of darkness and my phone’s light, stood a hulking figure reaching at _least_ seven feet tall. Pitch black eyes (there were more than two here, people) glimmered from the flashlight, a gaunt face was framed by two curling horns, pointing down to its mouth – its _mouth_! – that looked more like a pair of tusk-like mandibles found on a spider. As if the thing knew I was looking at them, I watched in growing horror as they _clacked_ together.

The small noise echoed throughout the room.

I forgot how to breathe.

The mouth spread wide to reveal even more teeth and I watched black liquid pour out from the open orifice. The rest of the body was close-ish to human – a torso sunken in to reveal a ribcage-of-sorts, long hands spindling into talons, legs ending in razor sharp claws. Something rustled behind the figure and that was when I quickly realized it also had _wings_.

Oh great, as if things couldn’t get _any worse_.

I sucked in a shuddering breath, the stale air laced with rot and gripped the tree limb cutter with a little more conviction. This couldn’t be real, this had to be some crazy ComicCon dude who was _seriously_ lost. _No way_ was this thing real. With that comfort, I mustered up as much courage as I could.

“Dude,” I finally said, albeit a little shakily.

It stared at me. Its mandibles _clacked_ again. My hands twinged with how tight I held the tree limb cutter.

“Hate to break it to you, but Halloween was _ages_ ago –”

It _screeched_. It was a breathy, deep, scathing noise that cut through to my very _freaking soul_. My heart literally _ached_ at the masses of soundwaves crashing into me.

I pressed myself up against the wall, the limb cutter made soft jangling noises as I trembled and tried to get my shit together. Somebody had to have heard that too, right? They had to be calling the cops by now, right?

If not, I could.

I glanced at my phone. Out of my peripherals, I could see the _thing_ following my gaze – with only _some_ of its eyes. Oh _God_. It couldn’t know what a phone was, could it?

All of the eyes focused on me again.

Slowly, with one taloned hand, it reached out and swept the phone off the water bottle package. It clattered across the concrete floor, light bounced around the room, and I lost all rational thought.

I ducked toward the door leading into the house and tried to make a break for it.

The monster snarled and I heard the loud thumping noises it made as it gained on me. Realizing I couldn’t get back to the door in time, I juked and scrambled along the length of the garage.

In magnificent fashion, I tripped over my own damn feet (now was _so not_ the time to be a klutz) and fell hard on the oil stained ground. I rolled over onto my back, my eyes wide as the freaking thing practically _pounced_ , all mandibles _clacking_ and _clicking_ and its deep growls making me want to burst into tears. It blocked all light coming from the phone and I found myself cast under a shadow. I screamed.

I swear I’m not a wimp, but it was all just. That. _Terrifying_.

I swung the rusty tree limb cutter out, feeling the blade make contact with something. Whatever I did, it was right, because it brought the monster up short. I followed through, dragging the blade through the thing’s flesh, listening to the angry snarls close behind.

I allowed a millisecond to congratulate myself. I thought I was handling this entire situation pretty well.

The thing jerked backwards, allowing more light to bleed into the scene. I looked up at the monster, then its stomach, surprised to see blackness, thick as tar, streaming from a deep wound in its torso. My eyes widened. I did _that_?

I glanced over at my tree limb cutter, startling away from it when I saw the blade _steaming_. It was _melting_. _Disintegrating_.

“Oh shit,” I managed to choke out.

It snarled at me again and lunged. With a strangled cry of my own, I aimed to chop the monster’s head right off.

Except my goals were too high.

I ended up hacking right into its shoulder, putting me within feet of the scary monster-Mothera-beast-thing. _Exactly_ where I _didn’t_ want to be.

My stomach started flipping, tangling in knots, leaping into my throat all at once as I desperately tried to free the only weapon I had. The monster snarled and struck out with its talons. I yelped and backpedaled, forgetting all about my wannabe-weapon, but somehow dislodging it in the process as I stumbled.

A sharp pain radiated from my shoulder and downward. I looked down in shock as a cut oozed blood just above my elbow. My heart raced, more blood rushed through my ears, and I looked back up at the monster in shock. I was surprised I couldn’t feel any more pain – Was this adrenaline?

It rose up and loomed over me. I quickly jerked the tree limb cutter across me, melting blade and all.

“I’m _dead_ – I’m dead. I’m dead, I’m dead, I’m _so_ dead,” I chanted over and over again.

The monster snarled again and I realized something.

I had to make it through this.

I had to survive.

There was _no way_ in hell I was letting this creepy beast shut _me_ down. I always pictured myself in a story as being the witty badass type. I had an ego to protect, here! I couldn’t just let that all go to waste!

I lashed out, but the monster ducked out of the way. That was fine, I could lunge after it, and I did.

“What’s the matter?” I shouted after it. “Why are you suddenly so scared? Worried that a sixteen-year-old is gonna kick your ass?”

I held out the tree limb cutter in front of me and attempted to twirl it like I saw girls twirl flags in the color guard at my school. “Well, you’d be right –”

But then I dropped the stupid thing. It clattered and clanged on the floor. At that exact moment, the monster spat at me. Like, spat its disgusting, black ichor at me.

“ _Bro_!” I screamed. I fell down – _again_ – throwing my injured arm up just in time as the saliva (or blood, who knew at this point) coated my arm. It stung and burnt at my skin, but the _real_ pain came as it met the cut on my upper arm. “What in the actual _fuck_?!”

_Ffwhu-POW!_

It sounded like a gunshot or the crack of a whip or fireworks, only a lot louder, making my ears ring. I scrambled further back, my eyes widening when I realized the monster wasn’t anywhere in the room. Instead, I found myself facing a giant, bright blue circle cut into the air.

I reached down and grabbed the limb cutter again, my breathing ragged. My heart wouldn’t make it out of this ordeal unscathed (I swear I’d gone through cardiac arrest, like, twelve _billion_ times by this point). But whatever this blue thing was, I’d be ready for it.

Suddenly, the tree limb cutter in my hands began to shake. At first, I thought it was my hands trembling, until I my feet started skidding across the smooth concrete floor, straight for the blue mass. This thing was _magnetic_? I tried to scramble back, pulling the limb cutter with me, but it wasn’t much use. I was losing this battle.

“Umm…?” I tried to dig my feet into the floor, still trying to gain some semblance of traction, but it didn’t work.

Finally, when I was less than three feet from the weird circle, I finally got smart enough to realize I could just _let go_ of the tree limb cutter. When I did, it shot straight through the blue expanse. But then I felt something tug deep in my chest, making me stumble forward, head-first into the freaking…

I didn’t even know what the damn thing was called.

**V**


	2. New York, New York!

**2\. New York, New York!**

I opened my eyes, finding myself lying on burning-hot concrete with a whole world bustling around me.

_Honk!_

_Beep!_

_Eeeeerrrrkkk!_

The wailing of a siren sent chills down my spine, even though it was hot outside. Like, ridiculously hot. Stiflingly humid, in fact. I shot up to my feet.

“What the –”

Vertigo hit me. I stumbled and teetered all over the place, trying to regain my bearings. I was dizzy, so ridiculously dizzy, and lightheaded and everything I should probably _not_ be in a situation like this. My head ached and my chest felt tight, every time I breathed it burned.

My knees buckled and I hit the ground again. I gasped and coughed, terrifying myself when I tasted something warm and metallic on my tongue. _That_ wasn’t normal. I wiped my hand across my mouth and looked down at it. As my vision became clearer, I saw crimson smeared across my skin. Oh my God, I was coughing up _blood_. I sat down and leaned against a brick building, trying to make sense of what was wrong with me and why. My body ached like it’d been thrown in a blender.

After ten minutes and one experimental cough that ended blood-free, I pulled off my flannel and took in my surroundings. I ran my hands through my hair, trying (and failing) to get a grip as I realized I was sitting in a small alleyway. The noises happening just outside my current safe zone were too much – they were deafening. Giant brick buildings loomed over me, the sun was high in the sky and it burned mercilessly. I broke a sweat just _sitting_.

Why the hell was it so hot outside? It was supposed to be freaking _February_. How did I get in this alley to begin with?

Where the hell was I?

There was no creepy monster thing, no handy-dandy tree limb cutter, no creepy blue circle. I guessed should've been somewhat grateful for that. But then I quickly realized I _also_ didn’t have my phone. I didn’t have anything that could get me home. _Great_.

I needed to come up with a plan.

I needed to figure out exactly where I was. Then I needed to find a phone. Then I needed a freaking _drink_. Even though I was underage, I felt like I deserved alcohol after the rough… twenty minutes I just had. Then my left arm started to throb in pain. It drew me from my thoughts, making me look down. My eyes widened.

Small ugly red welts dotted across my skin, clustered around a hideous red scratch ending just above my elbow. Holy shit, I’d never been this injured in my entire _life_ – how could this happen? How the hell did I get _burnt_?

Then I remembered the creepy monster and my anger renewed. Yeah, I needed to get a phone and call someone – _anyone_. I had to get back home so I could resolve this whole pest control problem my grandma’s house suddenly developed. A second round was in order. I walked out of the alley and peered around one of the buildings’ corners, subsequently getting the biggest start of my life.

People. People were everywhere. Walking with briefcases in hand, or reading newspapers, or drinking coffee, or bicycling, or running! The streets were _packed_ with cars, all bumper to bumper, moving ridiculously slow. I’d never seen so much activity. Everybody seemed so normal too. In fact, the entire situation could have been normal, if not for the fact I’d just been dropped here (rather unceremoniously, might I add), _for no good reason_.

Was that blue circle thing… could it have been a _portal_?

No. No way. Fuck that. Portals weren’t _real_.

I merged in with the people walking down the street, taking in my surroundings.

Even taller buildings than the ones creating that alley towered above me. There was so much commotion surrounding me, ranging from horns honking, people talking to each other or on their phones, getting into arguments, a freaking _hot dog vendor_ shouted about how he had the ‘ _best dogs in New York_ ,’ the –

Wait.

New York?

Because I’d been so thrown off, I ran into someone and dropped my flannel. A typical guy in a typical suit. I reeled back, finding the man looking down at me in disdain, annoyance clear on his face.

“ _Watch_ it, kid!” He squawked, voice dripping with a heavy Brooklyn accent. At least from my experience watching people from New York on TV shows, it sure sounded like a Brooklyn accent. It only added to my suspicions.

“I’m really sorry!” I said, bending down to retrieve my flannel shirt. He tried to walk past me, but I quickly sidestepped him and blocked his way again. He looked even more agitated. “Again, so sorry, and I’m sorry about the stupid question coming next. Where exactly am I?”

He rolled his eyes. “Thirty- _fawth_ street, kid.”

He tried to walk away again, but I grabbed his suit sleeve. He glared at me.

“Sorry!” I nearly cried out, quickly raising my hands to show him I hadn’t tried to pickpocket him or done anything else shady. “I’m sorry, I should’ve been more specific. I meant _where_ am I, as in, what state?”

“You’re kiddin’ me, right?” He asked as he looked me up and down. I shrugged helplessly, so close to losing my shit and bursting into tears. “ _New Yawrk_. Brooklyn, if you need to be even more exact.”

Oh shit.

Toto, I _so_ wasn’t in Kansas anymore, let alone the greater metro-Atlanta area.

I backpedaled out of the throng of people pushing me aside, crowding myself into a wall as I stared out at all the bodies surging past me. I bumped my injured arm on one of the rough brick walls and hissed in pain. My heart started racing again. I felt the beginnings of what I was sure had to be an panic attack.

Okay, okay, _okay_! Everything was fine, everything would have to be fine! I was in New York – So what, big deal! There were _far_ worse places I could be. Like a rural countryside with hillbilly cannibals? Third world countries where no one spoke English? Active warzones? This was _way_ better than all of those places! This definitely had to be a step up!

I tied the sleeves of my flannel around my waist. I ran my fingers through my messy hair, quickly fashioning it into a top-knot. The instant coolness on the back of my neck and the freedom of both my hands helped me relax a little.

“All right…” I muttered to myself (something I deemed I would _never_ do in my life). “First thing’s first. I need a phone.”

**V**

It turned out finding a phone was a lot harder in real life than the movies played it out to be. Or maybe it was just because I was in New York. Three or four hours later (I wouldn’t really know, since I hadn’t seen a damn clock _anywhere_ ), nobody would let me borrow a damn phone. And, well…

Okay, maybe it also didn’t help that I wasn’t trying _that hard_ to attain one, but I was still reeling! What was a suitable explanation for how I got from point A (short for Atlanta) to point B (for Brooklyn) in the first place? I wondered if I’d somehow been knocked into a coma and this whole setup was just some elaborate dream my mind created to help me cope with my very real, very paralyzed body in the real world.

I tried to pinch myself, punch myself, and scratch myself awake. After many bruises and burning scratches later, I decided this might just be a reality. Or a _damn_ good hallucination.

I was lost, exhausted, a little hungry, and seriously confused. My arm throbbed with a very intense, deep pain. I checked on it every once in a while, but it wasn’t getting better. At least it wasn’t getting worse. The red welts along my arm turned a less angry shade of pink, but the cut above my elbow was still a hideous, mottled mess. Thinking back on it, I assumed that was where the majority of the thing’s saliva hit me. Maybe it was getting infected. That could be the only logical explanation.

I was really fighting for anything logical at this point.

It was night-time in Brooklyn now. The sidewalks had been emptied of men and women in power suits and replaced with a younger crowd dressed in sequins and graphics ready to have a good time. I shuffled awkwardly around the groups, trying my best to keep to myself and not draw any attention to my situation.

Loud thumping disrupted me from my thoughts as I walked past a busy nightclub. The bass shook the concrete beneath my feet. I looked up at the neon blue sign –

“Oh no,” I breathed. “Oh _hell_ no.”

The sign read _Pandemonium_. It was the name to a place I’d always deemed fictional from the very first time it was ever mentioned in the book it belonged in. It had to be fictional – no, it _was_ fictional (late nights, my curiosity, and Google were magical things), because I’d looked it up.

I let out a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding until my lungs begged for oxygen. My breathing hitched, I felt the same icy dread of another anxiety panic coming on (something I found myself growing uncomfortably familiar with as my day progressed). I had to get a handle on it. I retreated, trying so hard to process and coming up _so_ empty.

I wouldn’t exactly call myself a _diehard_ fan of Cassandra Clare’s _Mortal Instruments_ series, but I wasn’t stupid and I did have a knack for remembering the little things. Like Pandemonium and how it was a club that only existed in Clare’s world, unless my web surfing skills were wrong, but I sincerely doubted that.

I had to be dreaming. Yes – it was just a stupid, ridiculous dream. That was all.

Then again, my dreams had never been so… lucid.

It only fueled my theory that I was in a coma.

Five or six blocks away from the weird club, my head started to clear and I tried to forget I even saw the building. The building wasn’t helping me get anywhere anytime soon, so it was unimportant. I put it on my metaphorical backburner.

Maybe my Google searches were wrong – the internet does crap like that. Maybe it was a brand new club that didn't even have a website yet, a tourist attraction for _Mortal Instruments_ fans. These theories sounded entirely feasible, but at the same time, they didn’t add up. It still didn’t explain how I magically arrived in New York. Maybe that bat thing was to blame –

What if that bat thing was a _demon_?

The thought almost made me trip over my feet in my shock, but come on, what the hell else could it be? Oh my God, did I really try to fight a _demon_? Why did I do that?

I pulled my elastic out of my hair, fluffed it out, and resituated it into a tighter top-knot while I continued to think. _That_ couldn’t be the answer. Demons weren’t real. It was probably some delusional comic-convention-meth-junkie who had gotten lost. Maybe I experienced a nervous breakdown and that fleshed out the details and drew them _way_ out of proportion. That could be a thing, right? My adrenaline had me going so hard I was seeing things?

I couldn’t have just faced off with a demon, had a mini throw-down, and got teleported to another world. Things like that just didn’t happen to ordinary girls like me. And trust me, I was _way_ ordinary. Just an ordinary girl caught up in a rather… unordinary situation. Oh my God, could I _be_ anymore “ _Straight Out of Young Adult Fiction_?” I couldn’t ( _shouldn’t_ , honestly) dwell on that, though. I had more important things to worry about.

Because it was getting later at night. Buildings and crowds were turning more sketch. Again, I began to worry I was drawing too much attention to myself whenever I walked past people. I really hoped I wouldn’t get mugged. I saw all the TV shows, New York was a rough place and muggings happened all the time. But I couldn’t get mugged. People like me just _couldn’t_ get mugged. I was already on the verge of psychotic at this point, getting mugged would do absolutely _nothing_ positive for my currently _very fragile_ mental state.

I wandered into a (semi) quiet neighborhood clustered with unique townhouses on narrow streets. Music blasted from a particular home to my right. There were tons of lights flashing, I could hear people yelling and laughing from inside because all the windows were open. Maybe someone would let me use their phone, or I could borrow one while the partygoers were (hopefully) a little more than buzzed from alcohol. I found myself relying on the latter, people around these parts didn’t seem terribly accommodating.

I reached the stairs leading into the townhouse, music and bass thrumming through my system. Usually, I loved my music a little louder than average, but not so much now when I was trying to commit a major faux pas. This situation perfectly highlighted how very average I was. I didn’t go to parties. Mainly because I didn’t have friends cool enough to throw them, much less get invited to any. I grabbed the railing and took one step up. Then the front door slammed open.

Act cool, just act cool. I wasn’t crashing a party. Not at all.

A group of guys burst out of the house, stumbling and laughing and shouting and tottering to the sides, obviously wasted. I crammed myself as far to the side of the stairs as I could to let them pass, but one of them made direct eye contact with me.

“Hey _beautiful_ ,” he slurred at me. He was pale with thick curly black hair.

Oh, geez.

I tried to jump out of the way as he lurched through his throng of friends, but it was like I couldn’t move fast enough. Before I knew it, he was standing right in front of me, crowding me against the railing. A faint breeze followed him. I couldn’t breathe. One second he was at the doorway, the next he was on the bottom step. Nobody could move that fast, especially no one as drunk as he looked. Obviously I was still on some sort of weird adrenaline trip. Or I was going insane.

“Um… hey,” I offered meekly. “What’s up?”

“How’s a young little thing like you…” he inhaled deeply. Then his pupils dilated, turning his eyes near-black. I braced myself against the iron railing. “What’s a young little thing like you… doing in a place like this? Looking for a good time?”

My heart started to race. This felt like the prelude to an episode of _Law and Order: SVU_. His eyes, the ones that were so blown and unfocused, suddenly snapped down to me and widened. “Um… not really,” I said as I tried to step back down the stairs. “I think I have the wrong address or something –”

His friends cackled behind him. The boy’s eyes narrowed. Suddenly he opened his mouth and let out a low, boiling hiss.

Wait, what?

I suddenly lost all fear in that instant, more at a loss than anything. Did I just… hear what I thought I heard? I straightened up from my nervous hunched position and arched a brow.

“Dude,” I said. “What the fuck. What in the _actual_ fuck. First of all, no girl is _ever_ going to give you the time of day if you offer her a line like the one you just drunkenly spewed at me. Second of all, I need to reiterate my prior statement. What the fuck. Did you just _hiss_ at me? What are you trying to be, a _vampire_? Do you know how overplayed that crap is these days? Third, let’s start on that shirt –”

He bared his teeth at me. Two fangs extended from his former canines. My epic comeback turned into a surprised, inaudible burbling noise.

Oh my God.

“Change your mind?” He grinned.

“Yeah…” I said, slowly. “Um…”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the front door open again. The boys turned to look at whoever was coming out and I took full opportunity of the moment. I kicked off the steps and vaulted myself over the railing of the stairs, no longer caring if I was tired or sore or whatever else I’d been feeling before. I was in yet another life-or-death situation and I would fight just as hard as I did before to get out of it. Honestly, if I took care of that demon relatively unscathed, what was the worst these guys could do?

I ducked into the next alleyway I could find, but I didn’t get that far down before someone grabbed my shoulders and toss me to the side. I hit the side of a building and my head knocked against cement. I yelled out a curse as I sunk to my knees, my arm flaring in pain as it scratched the rough wall on the way down.

I spun around at the sound of a menacing laugh, effectively falling on my ass as black spots sprouted before my eyes. I scrambled back, terrified as two versions of the same (fucking hell, it couldn’t be a _vampire_ , could it?) guy loomed over me.

“Wrong choice, _girlie_ ,” they snarled. Then they lunged for me.

“ _Help_!” I screamed, bracing for impact.

But he never touched me.

**V**


	3. The Best Dream Ever

**3\. The Best Dream Ever**

All I heard was the snapping of a jaw. My eyes had to be fooling me when I took in the scene before me.

A blond guy dressed in all black was taking on all _five_ _guys_ (but if they were actually vampires, seriously, what the _hell_?) at once, swiping and swinging a beautiful glowing sword after them all. A blond I found myself realizing was very, very familiar.

Then he looked _doubly_ familiar with a brother-sister-(but that’s just an educated guess)-tag-team racing into the alleyway, coming to his aid. The second boy to join the fray was taller than the blond with black hair. He wielded several daggers. The girl was a tall Amazonian beauty striking the guys down with a silver whip (what the hell was up with this medieval weaponry?), fighting through the mess of boys, making eye contact with me, shouting something. I couldn’t hear her with the blood roaring in my ears and my thundering heartbeats, but I could read her lips: _GET UP! MOVE! MOVE!_

I backpedaled out of the fray, my sudden onslaught of panic attacks doing nothing for me at this point as I felt my lungs closing in. I finally scrambled together enough momentum to rock myself back on my feet just in time for one of the… vampires to flit right in front of me. Shocked, I stumbled back, only for a wall to catch me.

I glanced over at the three fighting warriors, my heart sinking when I realized they were caught up in their own battles. They wouldn’t be able to get to me even if they tried. I had to handle this on my own. I could do it, I would do it, I _had_ to do it.

I bounced on the balls of my feet, quickly putting up my fists in what I thought was a suitable fighting pose. I was going to channel my inner Rhonda Rousey. I wasn’t going to die by freaking _vampire_.

I punched, but he grabbed my arm and spun me around. My back landed flat against his chest. I threw my whole weight downward, bringing the guy down with me. In moves quicker than I knew what to do with, I rolled on top of him and punched him in the face.

He gave an affronted sound and recoiled, but I didn’t hesitate when I punched again, my heart hammering double time. I didn’t even revel in the fact this was my first fight _ever_ (actually, technically second, I can’t believe I almost forgot about squaring off with a _demon_ ), instead focusing on how to end this guy.

And by end him, I totally meant kill him. This guy was trying to kill me, probably freaking _eat_ me, there was no way I could hold _anything_ back. Especially when all I had were a couple of fists and an apparent deep-seeded survivalist mentality.

But the vampire moved faster, rolling me over on my back so he was on top. Blood dripped from his obviously crushed nose and he snarled at me. I screamed back and tried to punch again until he had both of my arms pinned above my head.

Before he could do much else, I saw a bright streak of light and the vampire (I was warming up to actually calling them that) suddenly disintegrated, piling into ash all over me. I coughed and gagged and spat, scrambling up to my feet, only to have another set of strong hands grapple my arms and shove me into another wall. The force of it made my shoulder blades jar into brick. I forced my head forward to keep it from banging into the wall a second time. I shouted (my voice going hoarse at this point) and tried to fight past the hold, blinking to regain clarity.

“ _Stop it_!” I screeched. “For the love of Christ, just _stop_ throwing me into _walls_! What in the actual name of actual _fuck_!”

A pair of golden eyes stared at me a little incredulously and arched a perfect golden blond brow. The eyes were framed with a tan, angular face and covered in a messy-but-still-perfect mop of curly blond hair.

“Close,” he sneered at me, “I _am_ the walking embodiment of that word, but that’s not my name.”

I narrowed my eyes, resigning myself to my fate. “Is it Jace Lightwood?”

His sardonic expression melted into something a little more surprised, which pleased and worried me. Pleased, because hey, I got a reaction out of Jace- _freaking_ -Lightwood and worried because hey, what if this _wasn’t_ Jace- _freaking_ -Lightwood?

I continued to glare at him, sizing him up, finally realizing I wasn’t in any immediate danger anymore. I tried to push him away from me. He, of course, was much stronger and held firm. I didn’t get anywhere until I prodded one of his arms with my finger.

“Please let me go,” I said. “I’m a nobody. Well, I mean, nobody to be concerned about. I swear I’m not a bad guy or anything.”

“Who is this, Jace?” The black haired boy asked. “One of your ex-girlfriends or something?”

“He wishes,” I snarked. “Does that make you Alec Lightwood?”

The black haired boy stopped short, his eyes sweeping up and down my body as he appraised me. I frowned. “Is somebody going to tell me I’m right, or what?” I demanded. “I’ll have you know I kind of live for these little satisfactions in life.”

“Yeah,” the girl affirmed. “Do you know who I am?”

“Of course I do,” I said. “Isabelle Lightwood. Thanks for screaming at me earlier, obviously I’m not at my best… well, best anything, at the moment.”

“Oh my God, your arm!” She exclaimed, darting forward and shoving past Jace. He stepped to the side to let her look at the ugly mottled mess that stretched up from above my elbow to my shoulder blade. “You were attacked by a _demon_? Only demons can make these kinds of wounds! How are you still standing?”

It definitely wasn’t a question. Oh God, I really _had_ faced off with a freaking _demon_. I felt lightheaded again.

“Um… yeah,” I said, so eloquently. I felt myself swaying to the side. To my surprise, I found Jace- _freaking_ -Lightwood next to me, supporting my weight as he tried to hold me upright. “Look, I’m really sorry, but I _really_ don’t feel the best right now. Can we go somewhere so I can sit or something?”

Isabelle nodded, reaching out to support my other side as Jace slung my arm over his shoulders (of course my inner fangirl was _freaking out_ ), but Alec stopped us short.

“Hold on a second,” he snapped. “How do you even know us? I don’t remember meeting you from… well, anywhere –”

“Alec, is now really the best time to start cross-questioning her?” Isabelle demanded. “She’s obviously Shadowhunter, and she’s obviously been poisoned by a demon. We need to get her to the Institute.”

The _Institute_?

Then the blackness edging in my peripherals began to close in on me. The pain in my arm escalated from a deep throb to near-excruciating. Why was it hurting this much _now_? I swayed again and no one was fast enough to catch me. As soon as I hit the ground, my head cracked against asphalt and I knew I was a goner.

I saw three heads blearily hovering over me. I focused on the blond one.

“My name is Avery,” I muttered.

That was it. That was all I said before it was lights out.

**V**

I woke up on a soft white cot, my right arm wrapped tightly in gauze. It still hurt, but it wasn’t as bad as it had been earlier. My head throbbed, though. That was a new one. My muscles felt heavy and sore, which wasn’t so new. I guessed traveling through weird, blue portals did that to people. I slowly sat up, riding out the blood rushing up to my head and making the world spin. I reached up and pressed the palm of my hand against my forehead and let out a slow breath. Blinking past the fuzziness, I took in my surroundings.

I found myself in a large hospital room and I wondered if I finally woke up from the weirdest dream ever. It was lined with cots similar to mine, nearly twenty in total. The walls were white and the floor was an espresso-colored wood. The entire room smelled… old. Like an antique store. Not like a normal, sanitary hospital.

I stopped short when I saw a giant wolf, dead and stuffed, imprisoned in a glass case in the middle of the room, its beaded eyes staring me down. I swallowed. What janky hospital did my parents put me in? In fact, the whole room was filled with weird crap like that: old paintings on the walls, old _er_ weaponry stationed everywhere. I felt like I was in a castle. Other than the unsettling long-dead animal, though, I was alone.

I directed my attention to the foot of my bed, finding a bundle of folded materials waiting. I reached out, picking them up one by one. A pair of denim shorts embellished with silver studs on one side and an oversized black T-shirt wrapped around a bright red sports bra. Weirdest (trendiest by far, but still _weirdest_ ) hospital gown ever. I pulled myself out of bed, working past more dizziness, making sure to take my time as I wobbled toward a rolling changing curtain (just in case I would suddenly _not_ be alone). I pulled it in front of me and changed, leaving my old clothes on the floor behind me. I slipped my shoes on and hobbled out of the room.

I faced a hallway. Even that was deserted and quiet. It was made up of the same dark wooden floors and simple white walls. I leaned heavily on the doorframe, but I felt myself regaining strength.

This hospital was too weird. What if… what if I was still dreaming?

Again, _slowly_ , I pushed off of the wall and decided I would track down some form of civilization to get an answer.

I searched hallway after hallway. I traipsed up and down staircases, scoured every unlocked room. As I walked, I was amazed by the utter silence surrounding me. If I was still in New York, I couldn’t hear any of the traffic noises I experienced when I first came here. And if I really woke up in Atlanta… I was beginning to wonder if I was in an actual hospital. That was when I finally heard voices. _Finally_.

I followed the sounds until I reached a main hallway leading to an elevator. Standing in front of the doors were two people trying to get over some serious sexual tension (at least, I knew they had to be). I quickly ducked back behind the corner I almost crossed, dropped to my knees, and peered around.

One was a blond, Jace, leaning against the wall next to the elevator. He looked so tired, so… defeated.

“Jace, I want to talk to you,” a feminine voice I didn’t recognize said. It belonged to a pretty redheaded girl with crazy curly hair, huge green eyes, and freckles. _Lots_ of freckles. More than _me_ , which was saying something.

That had to be Clary Fray.

Oh my God, I was still in New York,. I’d been walking around the New York _Institute_. A place from a _book_. A book set an entire world away from my own, one that couldn’t even exist at all. I shouldn’t even be in it! It was all crazy, ludicrous, completely off the wall…

Rebellious, hardcore… I punched a freaking vampire in the freaking _face_!

Jace said something I didn’t catch in time before they both walked into the elevator. The doors closed and I was left alone to deal with my existential crisis.

Wasn’t this what I wanted? A little more to life than what I saw day to day? I’d never been one to believe in fate, or higher powers, or anything _remotely_ close to the phrase ‘everything happens for a reason,’ but maybe I needed to reevaluate. Maybe the phrase, ‘be careful what you wish for’ could also be applied.

I realized I needed to take everything in, soak up every second. I was going to revel in this. The _best dream ever_.

So I decided to endeavor to do what any other girl in my situation would. And that would be sightseeing. My first expedition would of course be finding that greenhouse/greenroom/whatever-place. If I was just a tourist in this wonderful world, I was going to do it right.

I would see _all of the sights_.

**V**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to drop a line and say thank you to everyone who's read this so far and offered kudos! I seriously didn't expect a lot of action to happen on a story like this, but so far I'm getting proven wrong! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'll see you guys next Wednesday!


	4. Meet Your Match

**4\. Meet Your Match**

Before I started my self-guided sightseeing exploration, I decided I needed to achieve a series of small attainable goals I set for myself after trying ( _trying_ , being the key word) to get over the fact I was in a fictional world. Well, namely achieve _just one_ small, more attainable goal.

Find the kitchen so I could get something to eat.

Again, I found myself wandering the halls of the Institute, getting more and more discouraged. I was lost. Nearly an hour and a half passed and I still couldn’t find it. Somehow, I managed to walk down enough stairs to reach the lobby of the Institute. It kind of looked like the entrance to a church, with pews on either side of me and two gargantuan oaken doors that would take me straight out of this dream-like building and possibly out to the real world. It would be my chance to leave, if I wanted to. Run away and try to continue fighting my way through this dream on my own.

“As if,” I muttered to myself before turning to find the kitchen with a new sense of purpose.

Suddenly, shouts echoing throughout the building jarred me from my current quest.

“Avery!” I heard Isabelle and Alec shout. “Avery!”

Okay, that was definitely my name, but how did they get it? Oh, that’s right, I’d told them before I passed out (which was definitely not cool, but I felt was also definitely understandable). I followed the voices.

“Hey!” I shouted back. “ _Marco_!”

“ _Polo_!” Isabelle responded.

I moved from a fast walk to a jog, following the sound of her voice. I rounded a corner, abruptly jerking myself back to a halt just before I slammed into Alec’s chest. “Sorry!” I exclaimed. “I’ve been looking for civilization for _ages_ , this place is way bigger than I thought!”

He didn’t look amused, his expression remained stony even when I tried to offer him a polite smile. “What are you doing?”

“In the cosmic sense…?” I offered, taking another awkward step back. His brows drew further inward. I quickly held up my hands. “Sorry, just trying to make a joke. I woke up hungry so I was just trying to find the kitchen.”

Luckily, Isabelle arrived on the scene with a lighter, more carefree attitude of her own. I appreciated it. “Did you say something about the kitchen?” She asked, then her face fell. “You’re probably starving, I can make you something –”

“And threaten her life a second time?” Alec demanded, then looked back at me. “Trust me, you don’t want her to make anything. Come on, I think we have some leftover pizza.”

Anything sounded five-star at this point. “That would be awesome.”

He nodded, leading us down more winding corridors until we broke out in a giant, restaurant-style industrial kitchen. It opened out to the side, where a huge wooden dining table lined with nearly twenty chairs stood. A huge window in the dining area offered a stunning view of the city cast in an orange-ish light from the setting sun. Wait, sunset…?

“How long was I asleep?” I asked.

“We brought you in around two-ish this morning,” Isabelle explained. “So most of the day. To be honest, I’m kind of surprised you’re up and moving now. Usually after a demon attack, people are out longer. We thought you were sleepwalking or something.”

Alec walked into the kitchen ahead of us, opening gargantuan refrigerator doors. Despite the fact the kitchen was so big, it was hardly stocked with any food. I realized that made sense, there were only three people on average living here. Alec pulled out two large pizza boxes, throwing them on the wide kitchen island behind him. He then reached into one of the many cupboards and pulled out a massive pizza stone. He turned the oven on, then transferred remaining pizza from both boxes onto the rounded pizza stone.

I shrugged at Isabelle’s remark. “I’ve always been quick to… I don’t know, bounce back, I guess?”

Isabelle shrugged herself and bounced into the kitchen, sitting on one of the barstools at the large island across from Alec. I followed suit and sat next to her, settling myself to watch Alec, who’d just put the pizza into the oven. “I guess that’s always a good trait to have,” Alec said. “We were going to give you some Runes to help you heal, but when we walked into the hospital wing, you were gone.”

I cradled my gauzed-up arm with my other hand, trying to hide how totally freaked out I was. If I’d been asleep any longer, I could’ve become a _Forsaken_. “Um… yeah, sorry about that. That’s just me and my one-track mind, I guess. I was starving. I was walking around all day yesterday, completely lost, then those vampires showed up –”

“Yeah, how did that all happen, exactly?” Alec questioned, leaning over the island. His eyes were bright blue and they cut into me like a couple of lightning bolts. “I mean, where’s your gear, your weapons? And you got attacked by a _demon_? Why are you in Brooklyn?”

“They, uh, the Clave sent me,” I explained, trying to remember what I read in the books. I only just finished _City of Glass_. “Just to help out.”

“Why?” Isabelle asked. “Everyone’s about to go to Idris.”

Shit.

“Well yeah, for sure, for sure, I thought it was totally weird too,” I said. “But with everything that’s been going down… they felt like a little backup would only help.”

Yeah, good lie, Avery. That sounded legit.

“But where’s your stuff?” Alec asked.

Or… maybe not. Um…

“Lost,” I said. I ran a hand through my hair before dropping it back on my lap. “I’m uh… not the best at going through… portals.”

Yeah, that was for sure. It was the half-truth, maybe even the full truth without the right context. Good ol’ context.

Isabelle looked properly awkward, as if empathetic to my struggle. Alec narrowed his eyes. “How old are you?”

“Sixteen,” I said. At least I didn’t have to lie about that.

Isabelle gasped. “You’re a _baby_ ,” she crooned.

I arched a brow at her. “How old are you then?”

She looked at me haughtily, ink black hair swinging elegantly with her upturned nose. “Seventeen.”

“You just turned seventeen last week,” Alec said. “Don’t act so high and mighty. We haven’t even been properly introduced.”

“Oh yeah, my bad,” I said. “My name is Avery.”

They gave me leering looks at that one. I fidgeted under the intensity of their stares. “Do you have a last name, Avery?” Alec finally asked.

Oh God, no. At least not a Shadowhunter last name. I took a quick glance around the room, my eyes landing on a black and white photograph above the island with a bunch of people seated at the dining table behind us. Underneath the picture were a bunch of names. I picked the first one I could find.

“Oh, sorry, right! Geez, where are my manners? It’s uh… Verdantia. Avery Verdantia.”

“ _Verdantia_?” Isabelle asked.

“Yes…?” I lied.

Alec still looked suspicious, but he didn’t say anything else about the matter. “Nice to officially meet you, Avery. Isabelle can show you a room for you to use while you stay here.”

“As for clothes,” Isabelle continued, “I can just loan you mine. You seem to fit well enough in some of my older stuff so you’ll be set until we can actually go shopping.”

“That’d be awesome,” I said. “Um… Would you guys mind giving me a status report about what exactly is going on here? The, uh, Clave told me some things but they weren’t very, uh… specific.”

Alec’s eyes narrowed. Oh great.

“They didn’t?” Isabelle asked. “That’s weird, they’re usually very thorough.”

I scrambled. “Well, uh, yeah, they totally are. But I’ve been, um, on a remote mission so I don’t really feel all that informed. And then you add the lost baggage and the whole demon problem to it, I’m just trying to get acclimated.”

“What kind of remote mission would the Clave send an underage Shadowhunter on?” Alec asked. “Why would they send you here alone? Do you even have a mentor?”

“ _Alec_!” Isabelle snapped. “You can’t just _ask_ people if they have mentors!”

Everything was going downhill way too fast. Of course they’d be confused, but of course Alec would be the smartest one to ask _why_. I needed to get better at lying. “No! No, it’s okay! Alec has a super valid point! I’m not, exactly, your average Shadowhunter. I’m… emancipated?”

_Emancipated_. Yes! It was a flash of brilliance that would probably never happen again. I was pretty proud of myself. That _had_ to sound legit!

“Emancipated,” Alec echoed. He didn’t sound like he believed me. Dammit.

“What does that mean?” Isabelle asked.

The question was my opportunity to really sell the lie. “It’s a, um… It’s a special circumstance kind of thing,” I said. “It means that I don’t legally have a parent or guardian. It means _I’m_ a legal adult so I can do… I can do what I want. I chose to work for the Clave. I… I travel wherever they want me to go so I can help Institutes like yours.”

While Alec and Isabelle took a minute to stew over the information I gave them, I took a minute to be amazed with myself. Like, where did all of that even _come from_? I said it all on the spot and it was amazing. They had to believe me! I almost believed it myself!

“Does… that help… anything?” I asked.

Slowly but surely, Alec nodded. It didn’t help me relax. I could still feel tension between us. I wasn’t out of the woods yet. Not by a long shot.

“Works for me,” Isabelle said as she hopped off her stool to look in the oven. At least there was no ground lost or gained with her. “Pizza’s done.”

**V**

After we ate, Isabelle showed me to my room. It was nothing extravagant. Just a tiny space decorated with a twin-sized bed, a dresser, a small closet, and an en suite bathroom. It held only the bare essentials any traveling Shadowhunter would need. Oddly enough, I found the space homey.

Isabelle had dumped her entire preteen wardrobe from on the bed, all items she claimed she no longer wore because she’d outgrown them. Apparently she had a pretty intense growth spurt from age twelve to fifteen, sprouting from around my size (a not-so-incredible five-foot-three-inches) to her model-esque five-foot-seven height.

So after my five slices of supreme specialty pizza, a hot shower, and a change of clothes (oversized gray tank top and a pair of black workout leggings), I roamed the Institute with new vigor, determined to find Jace- _freaking_ -Lightwood, if it was the last thing I did.

I stumbled across the large lobby that marked the grand entrance of the Institute again, its walls curved with intricate spiraling sculptures and framing the two giant doors. I cocked my head to the side, my messy bun tipping precariously on my head as both doors swung open.

And just as luck would have it, Jace strolled in.

It was weird how lucky I’d been lately, but I couldn’t completely focus on that. My breath caught in my throat as I watched one of my favorite literary characters of _all time_ just walk and breathe and _exist_ in the same room as me. I was still amazed Alec and Isabelle were even real, but when it came to Jace… It was just a different experience entirely.

It was the hair, the messy golden curls. The build, athletic and lean. His skin, tan and decorated with jet black Runes and thin white scars. His clothes, not all black like the books led me to believe but classic fitted jeans hanging around his hips and a heather gray V-neck tee. The only thing black on him were his boots, probably Shadowhunter-grade, but they also looked suspiciously like Doc Martins.

Incredibly hot? Check. But also tired. He looked like he’d been run absolutely ragged, pushed to the ground, unable to fight upward another inch. He looked so… sad. Anguished really.

And I felt for him, I really did. I wished there was something I could do, but I didn’t know what. I still didn’t really know what was going on and I didn’t want to ask again to deal with more rapid-fire questions from a too-suspicious Alec. I got lucky with the emancipation excuse, I didn’t know if I had any creativity left to convince him I wasn’t the person I really was.

And Jace _still_ hadn’t acknowledged my existence, even as he walked past me. With my dwindling amount of bravery, I tried to change that.

“Um, hey,” I offered (dumbly), my voice echoing in the large room.

Jace looked up from wherever his current brooding thoughts were taking him, arching a brow at me. Then he scoffed. “Stalking me now? I know you saw me leave earlier, and now here you are. You can be honest, you were checking me out last night, weren’t you?”

At first, I was almost affronted by the remark. Then I remembered this was Jace- _freaking_ -Lightwood. _Of course_ he’d be snarky as hell, even if it was to a complete stranger. His opening line could be turned into a banter between us. I could do banter. What better way was there to begin the best friendship ever?

“Not in the way you’re hoping, I’m sure,” I said. “My moves were pretty awesome last night, if I do say so myself, despite getting totally blindsided by a demon beforehand. How do I know _you_ weren’t checking _me_ out?”

“And why would I do that?” He asked, feigning curiosity.

“Because _everybody_ checks me out,” I said, changing my stance so I crossed my arms over my chest. “I guess I just have that aura of _goddess_ emanating off of me or something. And then I tell the boys I break dance? Swooning levels jump off the charts.”

All bullshit, for sure. No guys were checking me out. But hey, if I was already lying about being a Shadowhunter, this couldn’t be worse, could it? Well, whatever level it was on the horrible person scale, it didn’t feel all that bad because I earned a smirk from Jace. _Freaking_. Lightwood. Talk about actual swoon levels jumping off the charts. “I never thought –”

“That you’d meet someone as conceited as you?” I offered. “I have a feeling we’ll either get along perfectly, or try to rip each other’s throats out. Honestly, I’m hoping for the former.”

“I don’t think friends accuse each other of checking the other out,” Jace pointed out.

My arms dropped from folding across themselves and down to my sides. “You’re right,” I agreed. “Maybe we can settle for a mutual ‘no one was checking the other out’ compromise?”

“I think that would be best,” Jace replied. Then he started walking away again.

My spirits fell – just a little bit. I frowned after him. That was _it_? I thought our banter was going so well! I knew Jace was a pretty closed off character from the get-go (it was one of his most endearing traits to me), but come on, this was my favorite person! He was the coolest person ever! The guy who could _easily_ be my best friend in fiction, or my alter-ego in a paperback! He had to open up to me, he just _had_ to!

“I knew you wouldn’t be anyway,” I said, following him toward the elevator. “It’s because you’re in love with Clary, right? The girl who didn’t know she was a Shadowhunter?”

He paused. I could see the tension building in his stiffening form. I could feel the pain and frustration just _radiating_ off of him. “Whatever you think you’re seeing,” he started off. He didn’t even turn to look at me. “It isn’t true. Clary is my sister.”

Okay, so clearly I was still in the awkward phase of Clary and Jace thinking they were related. That was helpful. But which part? Were we talking _City of Bones_ , or _City of Ashes_?

I wondered if I could tell him who I really was – if I _should_. Were there even guidelines to this sort of thing? I knew there were guidelines when it came to lying – always stick to the same story. If I told Jace I wasn’t a Shadowhunter, there was no guaranteeing that he wouldn’t go straight to Alec. But if I didn’t tell someone, and there was an off-chance that I _wasn’t_ dreaming…

“Umm… I can guarantee you that’s not true,” I began. “It’s a little obvious what you two have is a little… different than a regular… familial bond… kind of thing,” I explained, then cringed at myself. This book totally fucked me up when the author threw in that possible-incest curveball. “To me, anyway. But I also know things, a lot of… different things. About you, and Clary, and Alec and Isabelle, even Magnus Bane. I could tell you everything that will happen in the next couple of… whenever, and you wouldn’t believe me at all.”

Jace slowly turned around. His expression was bewildered. I took it as a good sign, compared to my initial thought that’d he’d try to throw me out of those huge oaken doors. “Who are you?” He demanded.

Okay, maybe this idea was not-so-good, but I couldn’t go back now.

“Not who I told Isabelle and Alec I am, that’s for sure,” I said. “Could we maybe go to that greenhouse room? I don’t want to lay everything out and then deal with you having a panic attack or something in the middle of the lobby.”

I walked toward him, trying my best to appear as non-threatening as possible. “Don’t worry,” I said, attempting to smile past my nerves. “No innuendos should be detected here.”

**V**

He led the way through corridors and hallways and stairs. We didn’t say anything, but I think it was because Jace had a one-track mind and he just wanted the information I couldn’t share in too public of a space.

But _I_ couldn’t believe I was walking with Jace Wayland, or Lightwood, or Herondale, or whatever this kid wanted to call himself. It was… insane. The reason why I even continued to read Cassandra Clare’s book series was because of him.

Jace stopped in front of a door and opened it.

Overwhelming fragrances – just how I imagined it – assaulted my senses first. They were pungent and sweet and strong and florally and musky. Then there was all the greenery. In pots, growing from ceiling rafters, scattered along tables. Bright flowers sprung from places, others offered exotic fruits, there were even herbs squatting underneath tables, like trolls hiding from the light. I walked into the room, spinning to take in every sight, landing against one of the tables just to gain my bearings. It was all so much and I loved it.

“You’re not a Shadowhunter, are you?” Jace asked. I jumped at the sound of his voice, momentarily forgetting he was even there. How could I not, though?

I looked at him, unable to hide the grimace stretching across my face. I’d never been the best at hiding my emotions. Jace’s gaze flickered over my form and I felt my face heating up. He was staring at me like I was a freaking _alien_ or something.

“No…” I started off slowly. “I’m not. Please don’t tell Alec or Isabelle, though. I don’t even know how you’ll take it, much less them.”

“I can’t believe none of us questioned it sooner, but that demon scratch took up most of our attention,” Jace muttered, almost to himself. It was like he didn’t even hear me. “You have no marks, no scars, no steele or weapons. What are –?”

“I’m not a _what_ ,” I snapped. “I’m a _who_. My name is Avery, sometimes mistaken for ‘bravery’ because even though I’m not a Shadowhunter, I’m still a badass. I still fought a demon and you saw me punch that vampire in the face. I’m an avid reader, break dancer, and… kind of a major fan of you.”

His golden eyes snapped up at me. _Aha_ , got his attention with that one. “What do you mean, _a fan of me_?”

“I’ll get to that one in a second,” I said, letting out a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding. “But right now, I need to tell you what’s up. You’re in love with Clarissa Fray, or Morgenstern, or Fairchild? Anyway, she’s also in love with you.”

I didn’t really look at him, though. I kept my focus on the bush in front of me. It just sat in the corner, near Jace’s foot, minding its own business. Kind of like how I was before that demon attacked me and jumpstarted this whole mess.

“But –” He started off.

“But you’re related to each other? No, you’re actually not. Valentine just wanted you guys to think that so he could have some semblance of control over you. Your real name is actually Jace Herondale, your mom and dad’s names were Céline and Stephen Herondale. The Inquisitor was actually your grandmother, Imogen Herondale, but she didn’t know that until her death. H – Have you met… her…?”

I spared a glance at Jace’s face. It was tight and stony. He gave a small nod to affirm he had.

“Is she dead?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” I breathed. Finally, I knew _when_ I was. “Um… speaking of family lines and everything like that, I told Alec and Isabelle that my full name is Avery Verdantia, even though it actually isn’t, but I needed a Shadowhunter surname. It was the first one I saw.”

He didn’t say anything.

“Sorry, I know, kind of a jerk move. Anyways,” I went on, “you’re going to Idris in the next couple of days. Clary wants to go too, but you’re not going to let her. You’re going to try and get Simon to do something, but I don’t really remember what, to stall her or whatever. She’s going to go anyway, and she’s going to find you kissing Aline Penhallow, which is something I’d kind of personally prefer you wouldn’t do…”

I faded off when his blank face turned into more of a universal, “What in the literal hell…?” expression and I tried to wave him off.

“Later, later. It’s all happening later. I might be getting ahead of myself with extraneous details. Anyway, you guys fight – you and Clary, not you and Aline, because remember Clary sees you guys kissing – but it’s not that big of a deal. Well, it is kind of, because she meets Sebastian Verlac and runs off with him, which is entirely fucked up because that’s the _real_ son of Valentine, Jonathon Christopher Morgenstern. You also see Hodge Starkweather  again! But he’s in prison, and he dies shortly after the reunion… from what I remember. It’s been a minute.”

Nothing. He said nothing. But his expression was getting more stricken. I reached up to run a hand through my hair, just to move and dispel my nerves. They were mounting.

“Um… yeah, so you… you kill Jonathon Christopher – who was impersonating Sebastian – I think. I’m not sure, I heard something that there was a fourth book out? So maybe in the next book he’s actually still alive. When I read that I can tell you for sure, _but_! In the end, you and Clary get together because you learn you aren’t really related. Oh, but also, Jonathon Christopher – geez, what a mouthful, right? – _kills_ Max –”

“ _Shut up_!”

I stumbled back into one of the tables, tipping over a couple of potted plants. They crashed and shattered on the concrete floor, but I was a little more focused on the cold, sharp thing pressed against my throat. My eyes widened when I met Jace’s face, twisted with rage and pain and instead of being more afraid for myself (which I definitely was, by the way) I could feel my heart breaking more for _him_. I felt worse for him than my own _safety_.

I tried to breathe, in and out, but it came out all shaky and suffocating. I worked hard to regain the newly-familiar resolve I seemed to pick up almost twenty-four hours prior. I focused on Jace, narrowing my eyes as I drew up on my latest surge of survivor-instinct.

“Dude,” I began. “What the fuck.”

**V**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Dude, what the fuck?" may lowkey become Avery's new catchphrase. In the meantime, how did we feel about this chapter? Alec's already proving to be too suspicious for his own good, but that may be the least of Avery's concerns when she has a knife against her throat, don't you think?
> 
> Until next Wednesday, awesome people. Thank you again for the views and kudos!


	5. Off to See the Wizard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Thank you for your reads and kudos! Here's an early update because I'm going out of town on Wednesday! Hope you enjoy this!

 

**5\. Off to See the Wizard**

“ _First of all_ ,” I said, “where the hell do you keep a foot-long knife? Like, I knew guys had better pockets than girls’ clothing, but come on! This is ridiculous! Second of all, what the hell gives you the right to hold me at knife-point just because I told you something you didn’t want to hear? Talk about an overreaction. All you had to say was, ‘ _Thanks, Avery, I really didn’t want to know insert-part-you-hated-here, try not to bring it up again!_ ’ God! Can’t we at least pretend we’re civilized human _beings_?”

“You’re lying,” Jace spat.

“I’m telling the truth!”

“Yeah, right.”

I felt the blade dig further into my neck. It began to sting.

“I can prove it,” I said. “I know stuff about the future, but I also know things about your past. Things nobody else would know.”

His eyes flickered, golden and brilliant in the lighting of the greenhouse, considering me like a lion considers its next target. My palms bit into the edge of the table I’d been pushed against, its edge also digging into the small of my back. I felt like I was on the verge of another anxiety attack.

“Like what?” He gritted out.

Oh, I could go all day.

“You wanted to take a bath in spaghetti for your birthday.”

His eyes widened.

“You read a lot on your own when you were younger and you thought your only friend was your dad who, by the way, isn’t really your dad. You can play the piano. I don’t know how well, but you can. The first kid you met even close to your age was Alec Lightwood. You used to have a pet hawk, but when you tamed it, Valentine killed it, saying to love was to destroy.”

Belatedly, I noticed Jace was having a hard time breathing too. A random thought sprung to mind, suggesting I push the knife away from my throat, but I squelched it. I’d barely just scraped by with a demon and a vampire, I’d rather not press my luck against Jace- _freaking_ -Lightwood.

I gestured around the greenhouse. “You took Clary up here for her sixteenth birthday and you kissed her.”

Again, he didn’t say a word. His eyes swept over toward a large bush near some iron stairs leading up to the second floor of the space.

“Look,” I continued. “As much as I can relate to your whole motto, ‘to love is to destroy,’ I don’t think it’s entirely accurate the way your not-dad taught it. From what I understand, real love destroys all the bad perceptions you have of yourself and helps you become a better person. I mean think about it, doesn’t Clary help you move past all your insecurities? You and I both know she’s destroying your walls, getting closer and closer to the center of who you really are, and I think that’s the most terrifying thing about being in love.”

Slowly, almost _too_ slowly, Jace pulled the blade away from my neck. He put it into a sheath hiding on the side of his leg. How had I _not_ noticed that before? Probably because I was dumb and way too busy checking out all of his other assets (and yes, he had them). I gasped for air at that point, grabbing my neck to protect it just in case Jace thought about whipping it out again.

“That’s the… _second_ most terrifying thing that’s ever happened to me,” I said. “Nothing against you or anything, but nothing quite beats a demon almost killing you in your garage. You did beat a vampire trying to suck my blood, though.”

“He was drunk,” Jace muttered, looking around the greenhouse, avoiding me. “Hardly a threat.”

“To a Shadowhunter, I’m sure.”

We stood in an awkward silence for a few more minutes, until (surprisingly) Jace decided to break it.

“So where are you from?”

I perked up at the question, somewhat relieved to start a new topic of conversation. “Definitely not from here, that’s for sure,” I said. “I mean, not only _not_ from this world, but I was in Atlanta before the whole demon-thing went down. In my world, all of this is fictional. I’m seriously trying to convince myself it’s still a dream or something – _Ow_!”

I recoiled after Jace pinched my arm.

“What the hell?” I demanded.

“If someone’s dreaming, you’re supposed to pinch them and they’ll wake up,” he shrugged. “Don’t they do that in your dimension?”

“Well, yeah, but I already tried that,” I said as I struck out to punch him lightly on the arm. “Seriously though, can we please discuss this more? I swear it’ll only take one small thing to put me over the edge if I don’t get everything off my chest soon. I’m so glad I ran into you guys, maybe you can help me with the questions I have.”

“I can already tell you I don’t have the answers,” Jace said. “But it’s my job to protect mundanes, even if they aren’t from… my world. I’ll try to help you if I can.”

**V**

The tension between Jace and I dissipated almost immediately. We took to wandering the Institute, Jace trying (and failing) to show me around. He was too caught up in my story about how I arrived in New York. When I got to the part about fighting the demon with the tree limb cutter, his laugh echoed off the empty halls.

“So let me get this straight,” Jace tried to summarize. “You just woke up in the middle of the night, went to get water, and you saw a _demon_?”

“ _Exactly_. Impossible, right?”

Jace furrowed his brows. “Impossible doesn’t even cover it. I have several questions of my own. First of all, why do you wake up in the middle of the night for water? Who even does that? Secondly, why is a demon after you in the first place? You aren’t special –”

“Gee thanks,” I glowered at him. “And _plenty_ of people wake up in the middle of the night to get a drink of water, thank you very much –”

“Nobody I know,” Jace said. He smirked at my growing irritation. “Do you remember what time you woke up?”

I frowned. It seemed like such a long time ago when twenty-four hours hadn’t even passed. “Just before three in the morning? I think. Wait, isn’t that considered an evil time or something?”

“Mundanes,” Jace scoffed. He had the audacity to roll his eyes at me. “That’s a total myth. Three o’clock is just a normal time like all other hours.”

“Then why did you ask?” I shot back.

“Because it doesn’t make sense for you to wake up at three o’clock in the morning in February and then arrive here at two-thirty in the afternoon in September,” Jace explained. “And for a demon to cause this? It isn’t uncommon for demons to create portals, but it is a rare occurrence. I first thought it could’ve been a Greater Demon –”

“Oh my God,” I whispered in shock. “I’m such a _badass_!”

“– _but_ I don’t think that’s the case at all, especially if you, a _mundane_ with _no_ formal training whatsoever, managed a hit. Maybe it was already injured when it got to you or something. And why wasn’t that cut more critical? From your play-by-play, it sounded like the demon got ichor on you. And speaking of those vampires – you saw through their glamour. You shouldn’t be able or do any of these things. It doesn’t make sense, Avery, nothing about you is making sense.”

“Again, _gee thanks_ ,” I said. I folded my arms across my chest. “Trust me, none of this makes sense to me either, but I’m doing my best.”

“Yeah, almost getting killed by a vampire and then myself… We need to work on your people skills, by the way.”

“How is that even a _by the way_ kind of change of subject?”

“You can’t just greet someone like, ‘ _Hi, I’m Avery, it rhymes with bravery, and I know everything about your life!_ ’ It just doesn’t offer the best impression. You’re lucky I deal with weird so well.”

“First of all, I don’t sound like that. Second of all, I think the whole ‘ _Avery rhymes with bravery_ ’ thing is a _brilliant_ opportunity I do plan to make the most of in any situation I can. But I do agree with you about the rest. Obviously _I_ don’t do weird well.”

“Seems like you’ll have plenty of time to get used to it then, especially since you told Alec and Isabelle you’re some Shadowhunter’s cousin.”

“They should be lucky to have a cousin as cool as me.”

Jace rolled his eyes and laughed a little. I grinned. I was making progress with my hopefully soon-to-be best friend. “A mundane in the family. A Verdantia might be rolling in their grave from sheer mortification.”

“Hey, this mundane fought a demon and a vampire,” I said. “I’m not trying to be presumptuous, but I don’t think I’m exactly a disappointment, just a long lost relic or something. Hey, what if I do have Shadowhunter blood in me? That would make _so_ much sense, right? You guys dimension-hop all the time, that can’t be too far-fetched.”

“Oh yeah, sure, why don’t we Rune you up and see what happens?” Jace snarked, but his expression melted into horror when I wasn’t laughing. “Let’s not risk turning you into a Forsaken right now, okay?”

“Well, considering the way everything is going, I feel like it’d be just my luck,” I said. “What’s going to happen to me? I know Simon’s whole story and I _really_ don’t want to end up paranormal.”

“Trust me, you’re not going near anymore Downworlders,” Jace said. “We’re going to get you back to your dimension before anything else happens, as in you running your mouth to the next person you see.”

“Hey, I kept it together when Alec grilled me.”

“If you know me like you say you do, then you definitely know Alec,” Jace said. “It will only be a matter of time before he finds out who you really are. I’d rather not be on the receiving end when that happens.”

“But how am I supposed to get home?”

It dawned on us practically at the same time.

“ _Magnus_.”

**V**

An hour later, Jace and I snuck out of the Institute and made our way to Magnus Bane’s apartment. It was later on in the evening again, close to ten-thirty. Apparently, it would take us twenty minutes to get to our destination. We took a cab since Jace had to explain, “No, Avery, New York isn’t just a clusterfuck of places five minutes away from each other.”

“What is today, anyway?” I asked as I watched people hit up lively clubs and bars whenever we passed. “There are so many people.”

“Well, that’s New York for you,” Jace said. “But it’s Saturday night. What day was it when you left Atlanta?”

I frowned. “Monday.”

Jace nudged my arm with his elbow. “We’ll get it figured out.”

“Thanks for helping me,” I said. “I don’t know what I’d be doing if I was going through this by myself.”

Jace shrugged as the cab-driver took us to a quieter, more residential side of the city, filled with squished-together townhouses fading with age. I frowned. This wasn’t what I expected Magnus’s place to look like. It was in a more artsy district though, as Jace described it, so I guessed that part made sense.

We stopped in front of a particular brick townhouse. I took the six concrete steps leading upward two at a time, meanwhile Jace took about four at once, then walked up the final two. I frowned at him.

“Shadowhunter abilities,” Jace said while waggling his eyebrows. I rolled my eyes.

“Show off,” I muttered. I knocked on the door.

No answer.

I frowned at the chipping, fading navy paint covering Magnus Bane’s front door, then tried again.

Nothing.

“Well it _is_ eleven o’clock,” Jace said, as if I had no concept of time. Like I was an _idiot_.

“I thought you paranormal people _lived_ for the night,” I drawled, my eyes landing on a bronze call-box. I scanned the last names on the box, squinting through the darkness, finding ‘ _Bane_ ’ in fading marker, and jammed my finger on the button. It offered a weathered droning sound, then fell silent.

No response.

I started pressing it repeatedly.

_Beep_. _Beep_. _Beep_. _Beep_. _Be-beep_. _Be-beep_. _Be-be-be-beep_. _Be-be-be-be-be-be-bee_ –

“ _Who the hell is this?_ ” A deep, very coherent voice demanded. I yanked my hand away from the button and almost laughed in triumph. “ _In case you didn’t know, when someone doesn’t answer their intercom the first four times you press the button, it usually means they’re ignoring you._ ”

I bridled at the response and glared at the innocent machine. “Well if someone presses the button _more_ than once –!”

Jace’s arm snaked past my face, pressing the button again. He then nodded to it, a silent direction. I nearly stomped one of my feet in annoyance.

“Well if _someone_ presses the button _more_ _than once_ ,” I repeated, “it usually means the matter is _important_!”

There was a small pause, but I knew the line was still open when I heard faint crackling fill the air. “ _Who is this?_ ”

“Jace Herondale and Avery… V – Verdantia,” I stuttered.

Another beat of silence. Then the porchlight above us flipped on. Jace and I looked up at it at the same time. Then the door swung open.

I startled and stumbled back into Jace as a small flurry of glitter _poofed_ out of the darkness of the doorway. The Shadowhunter gripped my arms and steadied me before the both of us could fall backwards. I quickly stood up, ruffling a hand through my hair as if I hadn’t _just_ been startled by freaking _glitter_.

A figure emerged and leaned against the doorway. It belonged to a tall, lean, beautiful man with jet black hair that gleamed against the pale yellow porchlight and narrow silver and purple eyeliner framed glimmering cat-like eyes. The rest of his face was perfectly contoured and he wore a neon yellow unbuttoned shirt over an electric blue… speedo. His eyes dropped down to mine and regarded me with enough disdain to dredge up any and all inadequacies I’d ever had in my entire _life_.

Magnus Bane.

“What?” He demanded, looking at Jace. “ _What_ could be so important as to interrupt me from my _Grey’s Anatomy_ marathon? Another identity crisis? To be fair, I think that’s Alec’s forte now –”

“No, not an identity crisis,” I said. “It’s me, obviously.”

I shifted my weight when he looked back down at me, his focus uninterested yet calculating at the same time. “And you are?”

“Like I said before, my name is Avery. I’m the one who needs your help.”

Another quick once over, then he raised his perfectly arched brows at Jace. “She’s mundane.”

“ _She’s_ aware,” I said. “Which is why I need your help. Apparently I am mundane, technically, but also apparently not really. Can we talk?”

**V**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Magnus is here! What did you guys think about Avery and Jace's scenes? Do you think they could really be best friends in fiction?
> 
> Also, if you guys didn't know already, I actually have an original novel published online! It's called Finding Fae and it's fantastic, especially if you like the Mortal Instruments and Percy Jackson series! The link is below:
> 
> https://www.wattpad.com/story/100548252-finding-fae
> 
> Thank you in advance! I hope you guys have a great rest of your week!


	6. Insane Elevators and Connections

**6\. Insane Elevators and Connections**

“So,” Magnus Bane settled against the doorframe of his apartment, blocking the entrance. A small smirk played at the corners of his mouth. “You’re a technically-not-really mundane. I’ve never heard of those.”

I shrugged. “Call me exotic.”

The smirk got a predatory edge to it. “I will when I hear what the not-really part is.”

I tried to pretend I didn’t hear an innuendo in his words, or that the wizard’s expression _wasn’t_ the equivalent of something entirely deviant. But I could feel my face heating up and I could tell my embarrassment was his endgame.

“Trust me, I’d love to find out too,” I said, “but I don’t even know what it is yet, so I guess we’ll wait in suspense until you give me a proper diagnosis.”

“Are you suggesting you want to play doctor, my dear?”

 _Okay_ then. I considered myself to be a _very_ sheltered sixteen-year-old girl, one who was witty and sarcastic, yes, but not when it came to her own personal, uh… sexual prowess (as in, there was absolutely no prowess to be had, people). _Especially_ when it came to a very attractive, _very_ sexually fluid immortal wizard. My jaw shut with an audible _clack_ before I could make any other surprised sound, but I knew my face was scarlet. Magnus’s hearty laugh only proved it.

“Yes, definitely mundane,” Magnus said through his laughter. “It’s been so long since I’ve talked to one, but you’re all the same. So jumpy, so tense, and _so_ much fun. Is this all, Shadowhunter? I’ll have you know I _am_ very busy. Possibly-not-really mundane Girl Scouts are not how I wish to spend my evening.”

I lost my nervousness after that. I couldn’t afford it.

“Well I guess we’re one in the same then, Magnus Bane,” I said, “because I definitely didn’t want to spend the past two days stuck in a completely different dimension – that’s right, I’m talking _dimensions_ , here – that I got sucked into after I fought a Greater Demon –”

“A _possible_ Greater Demon,” Jace interjected. “We haven’t proven anything yet –”

“But a demon- _demon_ , nonetheless!” I went on. “And then I went on to kick vampire ass –”

“ _Drunk_ vampire ass,” Jace corrected with a sigh. “A part I’m sure she will always omit –”

“And now I’m standing on a porch, talking to a powerful wizard, trying to get help,” I finished. “Now, I know it probably doesn’t seem like a big deal to you, maybe an average day in the office. But to me – the jumpy, tense, and _so_ so fun mundane who’s also from a different world _entirely_ – this is beyond impossible. In my world, this isn’t real. In my world, you’re all in a book.”

Oh my God. That was probably the dumbest-sounding thing I’d ever said.

Magnus’s expression only changed a fraction with the arching of his sculpted brows. His lips were pursed, expression disbelieving.

I glowered at him, then waved my hands over in Jace’s direction. “Look, I don’t know how else to explain it, okay, but it’s true! Okay? Why don’t you just ask him?”

When I looked over at Jace, he only offered me an equally neutral face.

“I think he needs proof,” Jace finally said, as if I were stupid.

“Yes, proof would be nice,” Magnus agreed.

I curled my hands into fists, glaring at both men on either side of me. How skeptic could these people – _these people_ on _either side of me_ – possibly be? To my right, I had a guy who killed freaking _demons_ on the _daily_ , and to my left a Higher Warlock of freaking _Brooklyn_. Come on, was it so hard to have a little faith?

Apparently.

I gave a loud sigh, then stood on the tips of my toes to face Magnus, but I wasn’t even at his height, so I rocked back on my heels.

And then it was all sort of a fluid motion after that. Once I rocked back, I let the motion tip me back forward and I shoved Magnus aside, attempting to break into his apartment, only to enter a rickety antique elevator car. I whipped around to look at him. “What the hell is this?” I demanded.

Magnus sighed, letting Jace enter as well. “What’s happened to the youth of this generation?” The wizard asked rhetorically as he closed the wire door. “You could have at least asked to come in.”

“Yeah, I guarantee that wouldn’t work,” I rolled my eyes, leaning against the corner of the elevator.

Magnus hummed in either agreement or just because the point was now moot. He raised his left hand to the side of his head and _snapped_.

Right after that, the front door slammed shut, making the whole room pitch black. A naked bulb burst into a harsh light at the top of the elevator. A brass gate stretched across the entrance of the car and fastened to the other side by itself and I got a sinking feeling in my stomach.

Then the elevator shot up with a groan, going faster than I think I’d ever even gone on a roller coaster. I fell on my backside at the sheer force of it and narrowed my eyes when I saw Jace still upright, braced on the railing around the elevator car, _laughing at me_. Magnus smirked, also unfazed by the momentum.

Then car came to halt, making our bodies lurch up from the ground, only to drop once we were at a complete stop. I scrambled up from my less than dignified position on the ground, practically bolting after Magnus as he walked out of the open doorway leading into his apartment.

It was a spacious studio with worn wooden floors, filled with enough glitz and glam and unorganized chaos that I could definitely see the book character living in. His furniture ranged from antique to shockingly modern. There was a yellow velvet chaise stationed next to a plush black leather couch, decorated with a haphazard bright pink… Snuggie? There were books set on his coffee and end tables, stacked on bookcases and other shelves, clothes and dirty dishes and magazines were strewn across the floor. A massive antique chandelier hung over a very modern dining table able that could seat eight, but you couldn’t really tell as it was covered in books and clothes. Out the massive windows on either side of the apartment, you got a penthouse view of New York City.

“I would say pardon the mess, but you did barge in,” Magnus said, flopping over the black couch to stretch across it. He gestured to the pastel yellow chaise. “Sit down and give me my proof.”

Jace sat down, but I stood in the middle of his living room space, wringing my hands together.

“Um… Okay,” I started off. “You’re Magnus Bane, Higher Warlock of Brooklyn. You met Alec Lightwood at an Underworld party almost a month ago? Anyway, you guys are in love – at least Alec totally adores you, even though he’s afraid to show it. But in a couple of days from now he’s going to make your relationship public! Yay? Yeah…”

“Psychic?’ He asked, voice flat.

“No, I just read the books,” I replied. “But if you need any more proof, the party you had was to celebrate your cat… Chairman’s… birthday? Look, I know it’s not a lot to go on, but the author made you mysterious like that. Apparently you have a book series coming out about you, though. If you send me back to my world, I can totally prove it there.”

Magnus sighed. “Not as exciting as I thought it would be, but it is enough to hold my attention. All right portal-traveling, psychic, not-really mundane, tell me your story.”

**V**

We’d been in the apartment for a solid hour and a half. I regaled all the details I could spare from my fateful night when the demon attacked me in my garage and I watched Magnus pour over every book he could find in his haphazard library. I was now reclined on the plush black leather couch while Jace rifled through the kitchen. Apparently he was a midnight snacker. And he judged me for being thirsty in the middle of the night?

“Do you think you have any connections to this world?” Magnus asked after nearly fifteen minutes of silence.

I looked over at him, but the wizard wasn’t even looking at me. He was more focused on whatever was on the pages of his latest leather-bound book.

“I don’t think I do,” I answered as I stretched my back, staring up at the ceiling, which had glow in the dark stick on stars and planets dotting across it. “Jace and I kind of toyed with the idea that I could have Shadowhunter blood somewhere distant in my family tree, but how does one even go about proving that?”

“Especially since you came from another world,” Jace supplied as he walked back into the living room, carrying a small black box containing Chinese food. At least that was what it smelled like. “It seems a little far-fetched if you ask me.”

“Well then what drew you to this world in the first place?” Magnus asked, already exasperated as Jace took back his original seat on the yellow chaise. “Do you remember what you were thinking about when the portal first opened up to you?”

“I remember saying ‘oh shit’ a lot,” I replied unhelpfully, making Magnus roll his eyes. “Thinking it too… I don’t know. Honestly?”

“It _is_ the best policy,” Jace said.

“I wasn’t as scared as I probably should have been,” I admitted. “I’m still not, to be honest. I was really pissed off at the demon, or whatever it was. At the time, I just thought it was some weird cracked out guy in a costume that hurt me. The tree limb cutter got sucked into the portal like it was magnetic, and I went along headfirst, but I remember thinking it was all just too weird. Like…”

Like everything in my life was suddenly piecing itself together. Like this was the event I’d been waiting for my entire life.

Like I was coming _home_.

“Like I was getting punked or something,” I concluded, shrugging.

Magnus grunted and I heard him turn another page. “It doesn’t add up. You were scratched by a demon and you aren’t dying. In fact, you’re the fastest recovery story I’ve ever heard of. And you’re _mundane_.”

“Yes, _please_ continue calling me that,” I rolled my eyes. “Because that _definitely_ solves everything here.”

“Well, it almost does,” Magnus said. “The portal-traveling part, anyway. I think I know what I’m dealing with now.”

“Do you now?” Jace asked.

“Yes,” Magnus replied. “That creature you faced? It was most assuredly a demon. Only they have enough power to create portals leading to other realms entirely. You’re lucky to be alive. That type of power is hard to come by, a lot of ordinary wizards can’t even _conceive_ of doing what I’m sure you’re asking me to.”

“But you can, right?” I asked.

Magnus smirked at me. “Of course I can. But it will take time, even for someone as skilled and powerful as me. What is today, Thursday?”

“Technically Sunday,” Jace said.

“Thursday seems like a better day,” Magnus said. “Something about Thursday sounds right. Come back on Thursday… maybe even Friday.”

“ _Thursday_!” I snapped to attention, practically leaping off the couch in the process. “You can’t be serious! That’s way too late, _especially_ when you all are going to be in Idris –”

“What?” Magnus demanded.

“Maryse was going to call and see if you could teleport us there on Monday,” Jace explained, then looked over at me. “How did you –”

“Are you really going to ask me that?” I demanded.

**V**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did we feel about this chapter? Did you guys like Magnus? And why does Avery feel such a... CONNECTION to this fictional universe?
> 
> Also, did you guys see what I did there? Did you? Did you?!
> 
> Thank you guys as always for your kudos and reads! Feel free to let me know how I'm doing with the comments if you want. I'd really appreciate it! If you haven't checked it out already, I also have an original novel on Wattpad that I've written and based off of Avery's adventures. Here's the link: https://www.wattpad.com/story/100548252-finding-fae


	7. Wagers and Pancakes

 

**7\. Wagers and Pancakes**

“So, you’re going to be here for a couple more days until we come up with a plan B,” Jace said as we rode in the back of another taxi (my second legit taxi ride _ever_ , which was kind of cool), heading back to the Institute. It was nearing one o’clock in the morning now. “Is that so bad?”

“Um _, kind of_?” I replied, yet again running a hand through my already distressed (and probably greasy) hair. “I have to get back _home_! I know it seems like I’m handling everything pretty well, but that’s because my parents haven’t even been involved yet. They’re going to freak out when they try to wake me up for school and realize I’m not there! Oh God, they probably already _have_! What day is it my world? Would it be… _Tuesday_? I’ve been missing for a  _day_!”

Jace sighed loudly and also raked a hand through his hair. I could tell he was getting fed up with me. “Relax. We’ll get my phone at the Institute and you can try to call them from there, okay?”

“Jace, I don’t think you've quite grasped that I’m from an entirely different _realm_! I don’t know much about Shadowhunter phones, but I really doubt you have _that_ great of a cell phone carrier!”

“ _Realm_? Okay, that’s it. Stop here,” Jace ordered the taxi driver. The driver pulled over to the closest sidewalk and Jace practically shoved me out of the cab.

“Why did you do that?” I demanded as Jace shut the door behind us and paid the driver. The taxi sped off and melded in with the rest of the cars in traffic.

“You need to clear your head,” the blond replied. He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans, which was still kind of weird to take in. For all intents and purposes, Jace looked like a kid that could've gone to my high school. The only thing out of place and Shadowhunter-like on him was the thirteen-inch dagger strapped to his thigh, but even then, the dude made it work.

“We’ll walk the rest of the way. The Institute’s only a couple of blocks from here,” Jace explained. “Between here and those doors, you need to relax and we need to get your story straight.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to center myself. “You’re right, you’re right,” I breathed. “I’m just… I’m doing the best that I can with all of this.”

We stood there for another moment while I tried to get a grip on my current reality (or it could still be a dream, who knew at this point).

“Just breathe, Avery,” Jace said. “If you can’t handle what’s going on inside of you, expand your focus outside of yourself. Take in Brooklyn, focus on its rhythm.”

I listened to the city around me pulse with life.

Cars whipped past us, their harsh wakes ruffled my hair and my loose-fitting tee. Some had music on that was way too loud, the bass thrummed so hard it hit me in my chest. I opened my eyes, taking in all the lights and action moving forward without us. People were clubbing and barhopping with fervor, laughing and talking and causing scenes and making the most out of their early Sunday mornings. The city was just like all of the movies and books described it, a giant Mecca of life and motion. Even in the chaos, there was still a finite tempo that went along with it. A cadence I now felt shockingly in tune with.

“Better?” Jace asked, golden eyes flashing in the city lights.

Suddenly, a random chill akin to a blast of snow skittered over my body. My skin erupted into goosebumps and tingled. I shuddered after it and chalked it up to a random cold chill.

I nodded at Jace. “Better,” I said and we started walking.

We wove our way through the busy sidewalks, Jace talking a mile a minute, filling me in on a complicated cover story that held equal parts ambiguity and detail. It was enough to fool anyone into thinking I was a long-lost family member of the Verdantias, separated through several marriages and countries. My legal situation was tricky and classified and I wouldn’t talk about it because it was too personal.

I was beginning to feel a lot better, knowing that one of the best Shadowhunters ever had my back and was more than willing to help me. That and a Higher Warlock of Brooklyn definitely made me feel like chances were going to tip into my favor.

But then, just when I was feeling on top of the world, I just had to get knocked down. Literally.

The cause was a drunk girl. And she was not all that light either. As Miley Cyrus so eloquently put it, that girl came in like a wrecking ball.

“ _Whoa_!” She shouted and giggled, falling over and taking me down with her in the process.

I grunted as we both crashed down to the ground, the girl knocking the wind out of me as we hit asphalt.

“Oh my _God_ ,” I wheezed while I Jace cackled at me in the background (it was becoming a running gag at this point). I glared up at him while the girl rolled over me, laughing breathlessly as she drunkenly pulled herself to her feet, groping all over me in the process. “What the – _stop_ touching me – what the hell is your problem!” I shouted at the girl.

“She’s drunk, Avery, calm down,” Jace said, at this point as equally breathless as the drunk.

One of the girl’s friends surged after her, grabbing her friend to help her up, laughing too. “Oh my God, _Tasha_ , you’re such a klutz when you get drunk! You just trip over _thin air_!”

The girls erupted into even louder laughter and I frowned when  _Tasha_ finally got herself upright. I spluttered and jumped up to my feet. “ _Thin air_ –”

“Come on, Avery,” Jace said, still laughing. “They don’t even know we’re here.”

“How _don’t_ they know?” I exclaimed. “We’re standing _right here_! _Jesus_ , are New Yorkers really this obnoxious or –”

“Or we’re just really _not here_ to them,” Jace said. “I cast a glamour over us.”

I wheeled around then, drunk girls completely forgotten as I found a new reason to totally freak out.

“ _What_?” I demanded and looked down at my arms that were still _quite fully_ visible to me. “How? What? _Why_?”

“A glamour. You know, a spell which hides what a person can see versus what they can’t. And why? To stop the hoarding masses of women trying to get with me,” he answered, then gestured to the dagger on his side. “But also because I’m holding a bunch of weapons. Something that sends the message, ‘ _Hey, I’m a Shadowhunter, protector of your kind_ ,’ but actually reads, ‘ _Psycho_.’”

“ _How_ did you do it?” I asked. “I never felt anything, you didn’t say anything –”

“Yes you did,” Jace said. “That chill you felt before we started walking? That was me,” Jace smirked. “Glamours are so easy, a mundie can do it.”

His smirk died when he saw I wasn’t laughing with him. He lifted his hands in surrender. “All right, bad expression. But they really are that easy. Mundanes can do it themselves. It just takes the right mindset and enough meditation.”

“You’ll have to show me then,” I said. “In exchange for all the mundane jokes.”

“We’ll see, _mundie_ ,” he replied, shrugging out of the way of my punch. “Maybe if you can do some of the meditations, I’ll consider it.”

“If you teach me meditations, I’ll teach you toprock,” I offered.

He looked down at me then, arching a brow. “What is that?”

“Break dancing stuff,” I explained. “Like the thing breakdancers do before they start doing all the floor work?”

“You breakdance?” It was a question that sounded more like a statement. A _skeptical_ statement.

“Yeah, I told you when we first met, remember? Makes the guys go crazy.”

Which, again, we should point out there are _no_ guys going crazy over me back home, except weird ones with fedoras.

We continued walking, gaining ground on the Institute. I could see the huge oaken doors just a couple of buildings away. I then found myself looking down at the dagger on Jace’s side.

“So… your seraph blade,” I started out. “I didn’t really get a good look at it when you were holding it to my neck earlier. I’m not going to lie, I kind of want to see what they actually look like.”

The (slightly) older boy waved me off. “No way, you’ve seen more than enough. The only reason you’ve seen as much now is because you don’t even seem all that mundane.”

“And now I’ll bask in the glory that is me finally getting you to say I’m above average,” I smiled. “If I can do that in two days, imagine what I can do in a week. Trust me, Lightwood, I’ll have you practically _begging_ me to take a blade before this is all over.”

“All right, how about this, just to up the ante,” Jace suggested. “When we get home, after sleeping because I’m exhausted, you can show me your… moves or whatever the kids call them these days. If you have them, not only will I teach you the meditations for glamours, but I’ll give you a seraph blade. An old seraph blade, but a seraph blade nonetheless.”

“Oh Lightwood, you are _so_ on,” I grinned.

**V**

Several hours later, I was much more rested both physically and mentally than I had been ever since I arrived in Brooklyn. And it was only several hours later. Jace and I got back to the Institute around one-ish and it was now six-thirty. I was well-rested, but I was still most definitely a fangirl, and still most definitely restless.

And most _definitely_ starving.

So here I was, trying to track down the kitchen again and not exactly having the best luck. I felt like I’d been everywhere else in the damn building except for where I needed to go. My stomach had already gone from rumbles to keening whale noises. I knew if I ignored it any longer things were going to get straight Loch Ness Monster up in this church-turned-fortress.

Then I heard the muffled pounding sounds and thought maybe I’d struck gold. I quickened my pace, landing just in front of a set of French doors, one of which was open.

Inside was a huge, luxurious gym. It had light-colored wood flooring and a massive glass ceiling. The opposite wall in front of me was made up entirely of windows, giving a panoramic view of the city and what these Shadowhunters were training to protect.

The gym was filled with state of the art equipment, from a couple of treadmills to weight sets to training dummies, and to my left was an entire wall devoted to training weapons. My brows shot up in surprise. When I imagined the gym from reading this series, I never imagined it could be so… Instagram-worthy. But I shouldn’t have been surprised. The entire Institute had been like that: a perfect mixture of old and new, industrial-modern and traditional. I made a tentative step inside –

“ _Mrrrreeeeooooooooooww!_ ”

“ _Jesus_!” I gasped, reeling back from the pitchy battle cry. I looked around the room as the bloodcurdling screech ended with a hiss, finally tracking the noise downward.

At my feet stood a monstrous gray ball of fluff, its back arched and poised to strike. It had narrow yellow eyes and a scrunched up face with saliva bubbling at its mouth. I narrowed my eyes, lowering the hand I pressed over my chest and glared at the animal.

“You know,” I started off, “I’ve been attacked by demons and vampires in the past forty-eight hours. I hope you realize I’m not going to be as easily rattled by a damn _cat_ –”

The cat snarled when I took a step forward. Its feathery tail flicked in agitation as another unholy growl rumbled up from its chest. “All right, now see here –”

“That’s weird.”

I whirled around, finding Alec standing in the doorway behind me. The cat spat at my sudden movement and I turned back to it, surprised to see the animal hadn’t even tried to back down. I frowned. “What’s weird?”

The boy shrugged past me and moved further into the room, trying to shoo the cat away. “He usually doesn’t act like that around other Shadowhunters. He’s just pretty standoffish.”

“Well maybe he can tell I don’t like cats,” I said as I folded my arms across my chest.

Alec finally got the cat to move on with a parting hiss as it bolted out of the gym room. “Maybe,” he agreed, but he sounded _way_ too skeptical for my liking. “What are you doing up so early? I’m sure you could use some sleep, given the past couple of days you’ve had.”

“I was restless.” Hey, at least that was the truth. “To be honest, I’m still kind of… getting used to things.”

He gave me a look that told me I wasn’t making the most sense. Time to lie – I mean elaborate.

“Whenever I go to a new Institute, I uh… I don’t really sleep well the first couple of nights. I think it’s just like a um… an acclimation thing, or whatever,” I explained, poorly.

Then my stomach growled and it was way too loud to even try to cover up. I grimaced as Alec’s face broke out into a knowing smirk. “And maybe a hunger thing too, right?” He suggested. “Come on, I’ll show you where the kitchen is. I’ve heard that some of the Institutes can be a little different from each other.”

“Yeah, you can say that,” I muttered, and trailed after his much more confident steps.

It was weird, following the oldest Lightwood son through the Institute. In my readings, I always pictured Alec to be a lot more reserved, have a lot less self-confidence. But talking and walking with him like I was, he looked anything but. The way he led the way and offered little pieces of trivia about the Institute made me feel like the self-conscious one.

And I deserved to be the self-conscious one. I wasn’t even supposed to _be_ here. I didn’t share the same Shadowhunter thread, but I pretended I did. I was doing things and saying things I would have never said back in my world and I didn’t know what was scaring me more: the fact that I was acting like a different person, or the fact that I was beginning to _like_ it.

Back home I didn’t have much going for me. I was completely average and didn’t really see much of a future the way I was doing things. My grades? Average. My popularity? I had friends, but I wasn’t a queen bee type. My looks? Well I definitely wasn’t slaying anything there, either. Even my breakdancing was subpar.

But here? Here I felt… dare I say… _awesome_? I felt something special here. I was cocky and invincible and everything I was in my head but never in person. Grades didn’t matter, as long as I was smart enough to remember what happened in the story, I was _golden_! Popularity? Obviously I was a pretty amicable person if I could befriend three very testy warriors-in-training within the span of two days! And who even _cared_ about what I looked like when I was too busy being on a quest?

The realization was fast and sudden. So far, I _liked_ it here. A lot. I realized in the past two days, I’d never been… happier…

As Alec led the way into the kitchen, my emotions did an only-recently-familiar spike _downward_.

How could I think in the span of two days I’d never been happier here than I had in my entire life? How could I even _be_ happier in a world I only knew in fiction, when my family and friends were probably worried sick about me and doing everything in their power _and more_ to track me down? And I had the actual nerve to think I was _enjoying_ myself? I almost got killed – not once, but _twice_! What the hell was wrong with me?

“Um… Avery?”

I snapped to attention at that, trying my best to focus on Alec instead of my newly formed identity crisis.

“Sorry,” I said, flapping my hand toward the giant windows boasting yet another spectacular view of the city. “Just keep getting caught up with all these views! Every window leads to something breathtaking!”

He had an empty expression on his face at my lame excuse, but didn’t say anything about it. Instead, he turned back to the kitchen. “We don’t really have a lot in the way of food unless it’s takeout. Hodge – the man who used to be our guardian – he had a grocery delivery system set up to where we would get food once a week. But he’s gone now, so his system fell apart. We haven’t exactly… gotten back on track, yet.”

He looked a little awkward at the end of his explanation, so I rushed after him.

“Hey, no worries, I can totally empathize,” I said and started rummaging through their cabinets. How crazy was this? Little old me, nothing special at all, but somehow all of a sudden having enough confidence to go through strangers’ cabinets! “You guys have been through a lot these past couple of weeks. I think you deserve a pass just this once. Let’s see what you have left over and work from there.”

As I began to search, though, I was surprised to see a lot of empty space in each cupboard. I passed over jars of pickled who-knew-what and expired cans of vegetables. Honestly, nothing looked appetizing, but part of me just knew if I had to live on my own, I would be dealing with much the same. I silently thanked my mom for always keeping the pantry stocked with the best snacks and breakfast essentials.

Upon opening one small cabinet, I came across a lonely jar of organic honey and decided that was better than nothing. I pulled it out and set it on the massive island in the center of the kitchen. I turned back around, hoping my luck would hold out as I searched more spaces. I found myself clambering up on their countertops, checking the higher cabinetry –

“ _Aha_!” I cried, snatching a box of almost-expired pancake mix. I hoisted it up for Alec to see, grinning at him. “Check it out!”

“Yeah, a box of powdered carbs none of us know how to make,” he drawled, looking incredibly unimpressed.

“Seriously?” I frowned, glancing back at the pancake box. “You just add water.”

His face screwed up in disgust. “That sounds pleasant.”

“It’s better than nothing,” I said as I hopped down from the counter. “So pancakes and honey it is.”

A hiss from the other side of the room made Alec and I look toward the entrance of the kitchen. There stood the monstrous fluffy cat again, glaring at me for all its worth. Alec sighed.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into him, but my advice would be to get used to it. He’s somewhat of a permanent fixture to this Institute. His name is Church.”

**V**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooray! We finally met Church! Is he everything you hoped for and more? And what is Avery going to do about Alec? He's getting way too suspicious.
> 
> But Avery's got more going on than just those two! What about getting back to where she came from?! How do you guys think this is going to end?
> 
> As always, thank you for your reviews and kudos! Let me know how I'm doing with a comment! See you guys next week!


	8. Dream or Not

**8\. Dream or Not**

Time soldiered on and four plates were piled high with pancakes. Alec left fifteen minutes before to collect more breakfast essentials, apparently inspired by my half-decent cooking. It wasn’t an ideal situation since it left me alone with Church, the rabid dust bunny, but I tried to ignore him. That didn’t stop him from circling the kitchen, hissing and spitting and _growling_ like no other.

“You might as well get used to me,” I informed him as I flipped another pancake. “I’m gonna be here for a while, whether either of us like it or not.”

“Sorry to hear you’re unhappy.”

I looked over my shoulder to find Isabelle stomping into the kitchen, wearing nothing but a pair of boxer-shorts and a tank top. Her dark hair was perfectly moussed, not even frizzy or tangled in weird places. Cassandra Clare wasn’t kidding when she said this girl was pretty, Isabelle was downright flawless. She looked like she just stepped out of a Victoria’s Secret catalog or something, drowsy and perfectly oblivious, as most teenagers are at eight o’clock in the morning. 

She rummaged through one of the thousands of drawers and retrieved several sets of forks and knives, sending me a snarky look. Oh great, I could only imagine what she was thinking of me now. She plopped down on one of the barstools at the kitchen island. Church took this as his cue to finally scamper off, which did little to relax me. Instead of an annoying cat, I was about to be thrown into a cat fight.

“I wasn’t trying to be a jerk,” I apologized. “I just thought I’d be uh… assigned to a different place. I don’t know why I’m here.”

“Why aren’t you based at a home Institute?” Isabelle asked, frowning down at the plain pancakes. “Uhm…”

“Alec left to get syrup along with some other breakfast stuff,” I explained. “We only have honey. And to answer your other question… I don’t have a, uh, home Institute. I just kind of move around where and when they need me.”

The other girl frowned. “Not surprising, but still harsh. And your parents just let you go?”

“They, uh…” I had to turn back around to flip the last pancake. Once it was fully cooked, I shoveled it onto a plate and set it on the island. “They aren’t really in the picture.”

“Oh,” she said. She didn’t look at me, focusing intently on drizzling honey on her pancakes.

Great, now I probably sounded _way_ too problematic. My parents just weren’t in the picture because they weren’t in the story! _I_ wasn’t in the story! But of course, because it was me, I had to make it sound like something completely different.

“Not like they’re bad parents or anything,” I quickly amended. “Or – Or dead, or anything like that. They’re alive, and they’re great – they’re the best! I just… I just got into this on my own, so I’m up to my own devices. It’s okay.”

Isabelle’s face screwed up, but she didn’t say anything else. Instead she started shoveling pancakes in her mouth. My shoulders dropped.

“This Institute is really nice, by the way,” I said. “I’ve never stayed anywhere so nice before.”

“The rugs need to be cleaned, but thank you,” a deeper feminine voice spoke up. It startled me, almost making me drop the spatula in my hand. I whipped around and pretty much started digging my own grave on the spot.

An older looking Isabelle stood at the entrance of the kitchen, imperious and beautiful. She wore a simple black dress accented with a large necklace and sensible, classic black pumps. She looked more like a business executive than a Shadowhunter. The only thing that gave way to her true nature were the thin silver scars circling her arms and the way her eyes roved the room. There was something about them that seemed a little too wild. When those eyes landed on me, I felt like a deer stuck in the headlights.

“Who are you?” She asked.

“Um…” I leaned back against the counters, almost burned myself on the stove behind me, and shifted awkwardly past it. “I just got here last night.”

Maryse Lightwood’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. I started floundering.

“I’m… I’m Avery?” I squeaked. “Avery Verdantia.”

The narrowing eyes turned into a glare. My heart started pounding and I began wringing my hands around the spatula. God, she looked like she was going to kill me. I was about to get murdered. Demons and vampires and evil housecats had nothing on this woman.

“Verdantia?” Her tone was downright frosty. I didn’t even know voices could be cold until I met her.

“Um, I mean, right. Yeah,” I stuttered. Her gaze flickered down to the spatula shaking in my hands. I quickly set it on the countertop behind me and started making my way to her. “A, uh, _distantly_ related Verdantia. Through a lot of marriages and cousins and stuff. Sorry, I –”

I stuck my hand out in front of me in an attempt to shake hers. “The Clave sent me here since this area’s had so much trouble. They thought an extra set of hands would help.”

She made a noncommittal humming sound. I was positive that was the last sound I would hear before her eyes shot out lasers to kill me. She regarded my still outstretched hand too long. I finally, awkwardly, dropped it.

“It’s, um, nice to meet you,” I finished, slowly getting over my nervousness in favor of a little indignation. Did she think she was better than me or something?

“I’m Maryse Lightwood,” she said. “I run this Institute. I don’t recall ever getting notice from the Clave in regards to sending someone here – especially someone so young.”

“She’s emancipated!” Isabelle said in between her pancakes. As if that would answer anything. If Alec was hard to convince, Maryse Lightwood would be impossible.

“I… didn’t really get much notice either,” I said.

“You’re emancipated,” Maryse said. She sounded just like her son. Unconvinced. But unlike her son, she seemed to look down on me for it. I frowned.

“Yes,” I said. “The Clave thought it would be a good idea if I came here to help you guys out. Especially since there are only three semi-working Shadowhunters occupying this Institute and only one of them is of actual legal age. How does that even work, exactly?”

Maryse continued to frown. I started to glare.

“Whoa, do we need to open a window? The room feels a little thick from all this tension. Hey, Maryse.”

Jace squeezed past Maryse to get into the kitchen, making his adopted mom turn to greet her third son and momentarily break our staring contest. I took the opportunity to walk back into the kitchen and stand behind the island, trying to put as much space between myself and the older woman as possible.

“Who made pancakes?” Jace asked as he walked further into the kitchen.

“Avery,” Isabelle answered, shoving one of the plates in front of him as he sat down next to her. “They’re amazing.”

“They’re just pancakes,” I said as I looked back up at Maryse. Her gaze was on her children with an unreadable expression on her face. Maybe she was judging me for making such a subpar breakfast. Luckily, Alec arrived to change that.

“So I bought three different kinds of syrup, a carton of eggs, two packs of bacon, milk, orange juice, and more pancake mix,” Alec announced as he walked through the kitchen’s threshold, arms weighted down with grocery bags. “Oh hey, Mom.”

“Hello, Alexander,” Maryse returned, watching her eldest set the bags on the counter.

“Awesome. Sunday morning is saved,” I said, turning to get more pans hanging above the island.

“I smell breakfast!” A new voice belonging to a little kid with black hair and big glasses tore into the room.

“Hey, Max!” Isabelle said, helping the boy up on the other seat next to her. “You hungry? Avery made pancakes.”

“Who’s Avery?” He asked, then his eyes landed on mine. “Oh.”

I smiled weakly at the kid in front of me. If I didn’t know I was in pre- _City of Glass_ now, this definitely would have given it away. I didn’t know how to react at first. How was I supposed to react when I realized I was meeting someone just _days_ before they were going to die?

Or maybe… not?

“N – Nice to meet you,” I said. “How do you like your eggs?”

“Scrambled!” He said. The wide smile crossing his face only enhanced my epiphany.

What if Max _didn’t_ have to die? I mean, I was in his world, right? And I knew what was going to happen in the future. I had the power to stop his senseless, unjust death if I wanted to. If anything, it would be cruel if I just let it happen… right?

“Scrambled,” I repeated.

I guessed I was staring too long. Max’s smile started to fade and Isabelle looked a little bewildered. I pulled back.

“Scrambled eggs, coming right up!” I exclaimed, turning around to rummage through the cabinets to find a bowl to whisk eggs in. I startled back a step or two when I found Maryse standing right beside me, a large glass bowl in hand.

“You should sit down and eat before everything gets cold,” she said. “I can handle this.”

I skittered out of the kitchen with a mumbled, “okay,” before joining the rest of the Lightwood siblings at the table. I sat next to Max and grabbed a plate and tried not to look at the kid. As I piled my plate with pancakes, I wondered how I could pull it off. What if there were repercussions to what I was thinking about doing? But if this was still just a dream… why _not_ do it?

“I’m surprised the Clave didn’t send you to Idris, Avery,” Maryse said, breaking my concentration as she took control of breakfast preparations. In true mom fashion, she absolutely slayed at multitasking. She already had more pancakes to flip and eggs scrambling on the stove. The bacon was coming on next as she interrogated me. Alec filled glasses with juice and passed them out to everyone at the table, then sat down on my other side.

I took a sip of the orange juice and glanced down the length of the island. Jace’s golden gaze flashed to me before he looked back at his pancakes. It was finally time to put our cover story to the test.

“To be honest, I’m not sure why, either,” I said as I set my glass down. “Maybe it was to get me acclimated. I was supposed to show up right in front of the Institute yesterday morning, but the portal took me a different way. I ended up in some alleyway with no gear, no luggage, no weapons, and an angry Shax ready to tear me apart. I managed to get away in time, but I still didn’t know where I was. I’ve never been to New York before. I think it was pure luck that led me to Alec, Isabelle, and Jace last night.”

Maryse made the same humming noise again while she tended to the sizzling bacon. The scent and sound filled the kitchen air, making the room a lot warmer and homier than it’d been when I saw it yesterday. Bright morning light poured through the windows. It made the lenses on Max’s face glint. I wondered if it was possible for me to save him, how would I do it? I had no formal training, no experience fighting (being surprised by a demon and a vampire didn’t count), and no weapon. Unless I _really_ took Jace up on that wager…

“It sounds like you’ve already had quite the time getting here,” Maryse said as I forked a slice of honey-covered pancake into my mouth. “I hope my children have been accommodating.”

“For sure!” I said between bites. “Isabelle’s been kind enough to lend me her clothes while I figure out my luggage situation. I have a small apartment in Idris that holds most of my things while I travel. Once we arrive, I’ll get enough clothes to get by. I was told my stay here wouldn’t be too long.”

Jace drilled that last line into my head all the way back to the Institute from Magnus’s apartment. He said to use it as soon as anyone asked me any questions. I realized why as Maryse Lightwood’s posture loosened up and her first response wasn’t a judgmental _hum_.

“You have your own _apartment_?” Isabelle asked. “That’s so cool! You’ll have to show it to us!”

Oh _great_. I tried to hide my sudden wave of panic by taking another sip of juice. _That_ wasn’t in the cover story. “Um… yeah, sure. It’s the size of a broom closet, but yeah, I’ll take you with me to see it.”

She was satisfied with my response, Jace tried his best to look impartial to the exchange, and I didn’t even want to _know_ what Alec or Maryse were thinking. I decided the best thing to do was shove more pancakes in my mouth so I couldn’t answer any more questions right away. Maryse laid out more pancakes on the island as well as a massive tray of eggs and bacon. She watched her children dive into the food as she nibbled at a single strip of bacon. I sipped my juice while taking one last glance at Max stabbing eggs with his fork in one hand and holding a piece of bacon in the other.

Dream or not, I had to do it.

**V**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... We met Maryse. What do you guys think of her? And Max! It looks like Avery has been struck with some inspiration, but do you think she'll be able to pull off an attempted rescue mission herself?


	9. Uriel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I just wanted to inform you, yes, you ARE seeing double! I decided to give you guys two chapters on the same day! I'm going on vacation next week, and while I THINK I'm going to bring my laptop, I wanted to go ahead and give you guys next week's chapter in advance so I don't have to worry about shoddy hotel wifi working in my favor while I'm out of town.
> 
> So the only downside is there won't be a post next Wednesday, unless I can be... persuaded lol. Hope you guys enjoy this bonus chapter, and I'll see you soon!

**9\. Uriel**

My little epiphany had me in the gym after breakfast, standing in the middle of an open section dedicated solely to sparring, staring at a bunch of dummy weapons mounted on the wall. I turned back around so I could look at the city in all of its glory under a late morning sun.

“Second thoughts?” Jace asked as he strode into the gym. He walked toward a massive speaker system set in the back of the room and turned it on. A deep bass note thrummed through the floors to signal everything was on and waiting to be used.

“No way,” I said, watching him connect his phone to the speaker with an aux cord. The speakers crackled until the cord was fully plugged into the phone. “I’m still trying to take everything in. I’ve never even been to New York before.”

“Never?” Jace asked. I shrugged in response. “Well, maybe we can do something after this. I’d rather stay out of Maryse’s way for as long as we can.”

“Ditto,” I agreed. Honestly, I was down for any plan that kept me away from Maryse Lightwood and her profound ability to make me a nervous wreck. Just _thinking_ of her figuring out who I really was made me shudder.

If Jace noticed, he didn’t say anything and started scrolling through his phone. “What song?”

“Uh… dealer’s choice,” I replied.

Jace ended up choosing a current Top Forty hip-hop song with a deep bass. The beats thrummed through the floors and vibrated under my feet. My heart beat a little faster as familiar, warm tingles of anticipation skittered up my spine like they always did when I listened to an awesome song that made me want to dance. With it pouring through the sound system, it was like I was dancing on a whole new level. I grinned at Jace. “This is amazing!” I said.

He only responded with a smirk and leaned against the wall. I took it as my cue.

I stepped forward and started popping and locking, moving my legs and arms to the rhythm of the music. I wanted to show Jace all the capabilities I had as a dancer while I made up new movements for every beat. It felt kind of weird to dance in front of someone – it was a hobby I usually kept to myself – but when I looked up at Jace, he was smiling. It gave me more confidence to keep going.

I shuffled my feet just as the first part of the chorus began. When the beat dropped, I launched into my top rock, dancing with the beats and building my momentum. When the moment was right, I dropped into my six-step, letting my feet propel me as I spun around on the floor.

“ _Holy_ shit!” Jace exclaimed. I grinned before I shifted my weight from my torso to my shoulders, then pushed it into my forearms, and finally my hands. I lifted myself up and balanced on one hand. “Holy _shit_!”

I laughed and quickly shifted myself upright with a one-handed cartwheel. I left the one hand I used to hold myself in the air and clenched it in a fist while Jace continued to cheer me on. His eyes were bright and the smile on his face was the biggest I’d ever seen it. It made him actually look like a kid my age. I laughed again, meeting him halfway across the gym so I could accept his high-five.

“That was _so_ _cool_!” He said. “I didn’t think you’d actually be able to do anything like that! Where did you _learn_ that?”

“YouTube,” I shrugged.

“Not bad for YouTube, then,” he said. “You totally hustled me.”

I gasped, pretending to be hurt. “Jace Lightwood, I did _no_ such thing! If anything, you hustled yourself for even doubting me. I told you I was amazing. It’s your fault that you didn’t believe me. Our deal still stands… right?”

He sighed, shoving a hand through his curly golden locks, and a small smile remained on his face. “I guess so. Come on. Let’s go before I change my mind.”

I followed Jace out of the gym, down several hallways and corridors that I’d probably never be able to find again, until we stopped at a door at the very end of a secluded hallway. “Nondescript location. I can dig that,” I observed as he opened the door. “You leave it _unlocked_?”

“You can’t get in the Institute unless you’re a Shadowhunter,” Jace said by way of explanation before walking into the room.

I raised my brows and followed him in. “But I’m here,” I said. “How does that – _holy_ crap.”

The room we walked into was a lot bigger than it appeared. It was filled with rows upon rows of weapons displayed like books in a library. There were swords, knives, bows and arrows, shields, _maces_ – every weapon imaginable was in the room, gleaming under dim overhead lights and small windows lining the opposite wall. I gaped.

Jace ducked further into the shelves of weapons. I followed him, careful to keep my hands to myself, but my eyes wide as I took in every detail the weapons had to offer. With them being on display as they were, it felt more like we were in an art museum. The weapons even looked like pieces of art, from the delicate Rune scrolling on their hilts and along the blades and points themselves, to the gentle curves of the blades that made them look smooth and all the more deadly.

Jace stopped short in front of the very last shelf. It held a couple of cracked battle axes, a gun split down the middle, and some chipped daggers. “A lot of these weapons are too old for battle or broken,” he explained, turning so the light streaming out of one of the small windows in the room turned his hair yellow. “We try to send them off to Idris to get repaired, but the process takes forever and sometimes we forget about it. If one of these disappears, no one will notice.”

He reached out and picked up a nondescript-looking cylinder case. It had a handle protruding out of one end wrapped in faded black leather. I frowned as he held it out for me.

“This sword is named Uriel,” he said. I looked up at him. “Go on. Take it.”

I hesitantly reached out and grabbed the handle and pulled back toward me. A sword slid out of the case, its blade glasslike with how thin and clear it was. It glinted in the sunlight, almost as if it were winking at me. It was heavier than I expected it to be. “Why is this here? It looks totally fine to me.”

“Some seraph blades can be… temperamental,” Jace explained vaguely. “They can go rogue if a Shadowhunter’s will isn’t strong enough to wield it. Uriel is one of those blades. It barely stays lit for anyone. You can try to call on it, if you want.”

I stared at the blade, balancing its weight in the center of my hand. “How do you do it?”

“You say its name,” he said, “and you have to center yourself. You’ll only be able to control the blade if you can control yourself.”

“Um, okay,” I said. I took a deep breath and stared at the sword in my hand. “Ur… Uriel?”

Nothing happened.

I tightened my grip on the handle. “Uriel,” I said again.

Still nothing.

I looked back at Jace. “I think you’re the one that hustled me,” I said.

“Hey, you said you wanted a seraph blade,” he said. “I’d be crazy if I gave you one that actually worked. Come on, Av. Wanna go see Times Square?”

**V**

Times Square was exactly how I imagined it would be. Busy, loud, and not enough of a distraction.

It didn’t help that Jace was the worst tour guide _ever_. He didn’t really do much to explain the sights and every time I would ask a question, he’d roll his eyes and give me a one-worded response. Then he'd be on his phone, obviously texting someone _way_ more important than me. I was pretty much left to my own devices, which meant a lot of lowkey photobombing and quietly obsessing over the seraph blade hanging around my waist (something that should have looked insane, but nobody gave a second look at).

“You still need to teach me those glamour meditations,” I said as we walked through the square. “Do you think you could show me where the library is too? When we get back, I mean. I want to learn more about the archangel Uriel. Maybe something written about him can help me understand the sword better.”

“Yeah, sure,” Jace said, but he didn’t sound as enthusiastic as I was. He hadn't even looked up from his phone once. It was a miracle he hadn't run into anyone yet on the crowded square.

I stopped at the crosswalk in the middle of the square and folded my arms across my chest. “All right, what’s up?”

Jace finally looked at me after almost an hour of his face being glued to his phone. “Nothing,” he said. “You hungry?”

“Not really,” I said. “Unless you mean hungry as in _hungry for knowledge_. In that case, I’m starving. We should just go back to the Institute. Then you can get takeout from Taki’s and I can get my hands on a book about archangels –”

“No way,” Jace said. “Maryse is on a cleaning tear. I’d rather not deal with that right now. I have enough to worry about.”

“Oh come on, we could totally sneak in. Nobody would even know –”

“I’m not going to risk it. Especially when you barely made it through breakfast without cracking,” he went on. “And Alec still doesn’t trust you. I think the less they see you, the less they’ll question things. We also need to figure out how to keep you from going to Idris with us.”

My eyes widened. “ _What_? Didn’t you hear _anything_ I told you in the greenhouse? Bad things are going to happen in Idris and I’m the only one who knows what. You have to let me go –”

“ _I_ don’t have to do anything, Avery,” Jace said. “I heard what you said in the greenhouse, but that isn’t going to change my mind. I’ll find a way to keep Max safe –”

“No you won’t,” I said. “You won’t be able to. You’ll be too busy dealing with your own shit that you won’t even think about him. But I can. _Please_ , Jace, just trust me on this! I –”

A cold chill shot down my spine. It made me pause and glance around, relieved to see no one was looking directly at us despite the tension building. We had to be under another glamour. I looked back at Jace, surprised to see his golden gaze sharp and focused on me.

“Why should I trust you?” He demanded. “I don’t even know you. Ever since you got here, you’ve been lying to Isabelle, to Maryse, to Alec, and making me do it with you. You have no idea how hard it is for me to keep this from them, for me to lie to my own parabatai –”

“Don’t say that,” I said. “Don’t talk to me like I don’t know what’s happening or the risks I’m taking, what it means for you to do this, like I’m just some – some –”

“Some what?” Jace asked. “Some _mundane_?”

I was treading in hot water. We both knew it. The next words I said could either make this conversation go away forever, or open up a whole new can of worms.

Obviously, because I’m me, I went for the latter.

“I…” I started off. “I don’t know. How can I be a mundane if I can fight a vampire, or – or a demon –”

“Dumb. Luck,” he replied. “Let’s just stop things here you before you get too far behind. You’re not a Shadowhunter, Avery. You’re a mundane. Just a typical clueless, unsuspecting, unaware, _useless_ mundane that’s brought me more trouble than what you’re actually worth –”

Before I even knew what was happening, I saw my fist fly straight toward the side of Jace’s face.

_SMACK!_

My knuckles collided with the bone in his cheek and sharp pain lanced through my hand, but I was too angry to care. The pain cutting deep into my chest felt so much worse along with the heaviness of embarrassment and regret for saying what I did. Jace stumbled backwards, one hand cupping the side of his face and the other reaching for the dagger on his thigh. Something about that movement triggered me, it stirred something that was deep within me and had been asleep _too_ long.

“Oh, so you’re gonna try me? Fine! Fucking _fight_ me, Jace Lightwood!” I screamed. “Fight! _Me_! If you think I’m a mundane, _fine_! Let’s put it to the test – Unless the real reason you don’t want me to come to Idris is because you’re scared I might be right and I just _might_ be a better Shadowhunter than _you_!”

I didn’t even know where the words were coming from. Usually when I got upset, I could hardly even talk. But it was like something in me was finally awake, making me see clearly for the first time in my entire life.

I yanked out my seraph blade. The movements in my limbs were fast and confident and the blade became an extension of myself. It was like pure instinct took over. “ _Uriel_!” I shouted.

The entire sword suddenly burst in a bright white light. It was like staring at an absolute truth. A gentle _thrum_ ran through my hand and up my arm that felt better than breakdancing or listening to my favorite song. The light was pure brilliance. I stared at the blade in shock as it glowed back at me, pearly and luminescent like glass in the sun. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. My eyes widened.

“Avery,” Jace said. “How –”

The light disappeared as quickly as it came, leaving the sword dim and almost empty, but it didn’t make it any less real. It didn't change the way I felt. Slowly, I looked up at Jace. His eyes were wide and dead set on me, obviously studying me, completely shocked. I made Jace-freaking-Lightwood _speechless_.

“I – I’m a Shadowhunter,” I breathed.

**V**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap, what the heck is going on here?! Avery can't be a Shadowhunter! Or can she...?
> 
> Also, I'm totally aware in the books that the blade pops out of the hilt when its name is called, but I really liked the seraph blade concept in the CoB movie and the Shadowhunters TV show just a little bit more. I hope that doesn't ruin anyone's experience with the story...
> 
> So what do you guys think? I'm dying to know! Thank you again for your reads and kudos so far and let me know if you want a chapter next week!


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